


The Boy in the Tree

by Joan_of_Arc



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-11 16:15:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7899481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joan_of_Arc/pseuds/Joan_of_Arc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in the cave with the three-eyed raven, Bran starts having visions about his family and comes to the conclusion he can actually intervene and change their future. In each chapter we follow the ghost of Bran interacting with the different members of his family trying to stop them from making terrible mistakes which will lead them to their doom. Will he succeed? Will he be able to save his family?</p><p>Warning: This story is very dark :(<br/>(but will have a happy ending)</p><p>NOW COMPLETE - No more deaths!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boy in the Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1: The narrator of this story is the spirit of Bran that will be travelling in time and space while his real body remains at the cave. 
> 
> Note 2: Each chapter will be like a story on its own since Bran is trying to change things in the life of different members of his family. There is no continuity between the different chapters, and whatever changes Bran causes to one timeline will be erased when the chapter ends. The new chapter will start from the beginning again. 
> 
> Note 3: Warning!!! There will be scenes of graphic violence and even implied (not graphic) rape. But then again, this is a show where a girl was burned alive, a woman and her baby were eaten by dogs and a man had his head crushed like a grape ...

**_ 1) The boy in the tree.  _ **

 

A boy is lying in a cave. He is sleeping next to a tree. No, wait! He is not sleeping, his eyes are open, but he cannot see me – his eyes are white! And he is not _next_ to the tree. He is _within_ the tree! His arms and the roots are one and the same. I can’t tell where the boy ends and the tree begins. He looks tall but very thin. His clothes are dirty and shabby, even torn in some places where I can see he has outgrown them. There’s something odd about him, about his posture. His legs. His legs do not seem right. Too thin, too bent. Something about the boy calls to me. He looks familiar…

 

The boy is not alone. His sole companion is a young girl with a net and a spear for weapons. She also looks tired and malnourished. Maybe they have been here for a while. Or maybe they are resting after a long journey. No, she is not resting. She is watching the boy. Sad worried eyes which dart between the boy and the entrance of the cave. I wonder what she is thinking. Why does she feel the need to protect the boy? Who is she? Who is this boy? Why am I drawn to them?

 

It’s me! I can see him. I can see myself! Suddenly it all comes to me: my family, my father and mother, my siblings, my house, my wolf. _Summer!_ The wolf? Where is it? Why can’t I see him? Where are his siblings? I can’t feel them. They are either all gone or too far for me to sense them. Where are _my_ siblings, the children? Are they all the same? Am I and the wolf the same?

 

Images flood my brain: a dying mother wolf with six puppies, a father and a mother proudly looking at their children, a fat King and his beautiful Queen, the Queen and her brother, a window, an arm reaching out to me … the ground. The ground is moving, it’s getting closer. Or am I getting closer to the ground? I’m falling!! And then darkness…. I can hear voices now:

“Bran has had an accident!”

“He won’t make it!”

“I will miss you son, but I have to go. Duty calls”

“I can’t do this Ned. Please stay”

“Goodbye little brother”

“He will never regain the use of his legs”

 

I know these voices. I can see their faces in my head: father, mother, Robb, Sansa, Arya, Rickon, Jon, Theon, Maester Luwin, Old Nan. … How do I know these names?

 

I am assaulted by more images and more visions. They are very clear and very vivid. Some of the faces look familiar and I recognize some of the voices, but I do not know these places. Have I been there before? It’s all very confusing.

 

A broken man kneeling in front of an angry crowd. There is a girl sobbing near him and a blond boy with a smug smile. “Ser Ilyn, bring me his head” the boy says. And the girl faints.

 

A wedding. People dancing and playing. No, they are not dancing, they are not playing. They are fighting; and they are dying. “On my honor as a Tully on my honor as a Stark” a crying woman begs. But her voice is not heard.

 

A long journey. A girl disguised, her long red hair gone, now tainted black with grief. I can’t hear her name, but I know she has changed it. Stark, Lannister, Stone, Bolton. She’s home, but she does not feel at home. She’s crying. She longs for happier times.

 

Another girl. She fights. She survives. But she does not love, nor is she loved. She has had many names and faces, none of them real. She is no-one.

 

A scared little boy on the run and his companion. Is she his mother? She behaves as such, but they both know she is not. Where are they? I can’t tell. They are lost.

 

A young man. Black hair, black beard, black clothes. He holds a great title, a great honor. But his companions do not think so. He has fought many battles, but he falls to the ground in a pool of blood. Has he perished in battle? No, but he falls nonetheless. All he sees is darkness. More black. Then red. Then white. He is back, but he is lost.

 

Pain and blood. Missing limbs. Agony and humiliation. A young man who no longer feels anything. He has been reduced to nothing. He has become nothing.

.

.

.

I can hear the dogs barking and the wolves howling. The Gods speak to me: the Old Gods and the New. The trees call me; their essence runs through my veins.

 

I am the wolf. I am the boy. My name is Bran Stark of Winterfell and now I can see everything. I know these people. They are my family, and I can save them.

**__ **


	2. Three boys in the Forest

**_ 2) Three boys in the forest.  _ **

 

My name is Bran Stark of Winterfell, son of Lord Eddard Stark and his wife Catelyn Tully. My brothers are Robb and Rickon Stark and my sisters are Sansa and Arya Stark. Jon Snow is my half-brother and Theon Greyjoy is our ward. I was going to be a knight of the Kingsguard. My life seemed destined for greater things. … But it was not to be. I saw something I shouldn’t have and now I am a cripple tied to a tree … But I have powers. I know things. And I can see things. … My family needs me, I just have to find a way to save them. If only I could warn them of the dangers that await them …

.

.

.

Three young boys running through a forest. They are having fun. The eldest puts his hands on his hips and, sporting a cocky grin, taunts the other two. “Ha! The heir and the bastard! Holding a competition to see who runs the slowest!”

The two younger boys do not seem to be discouraged by this remark and just press on trying to catch the older boy.

 

“A squid will never outrun a wolf!” one of the stragglers challenges. He is not as tall as the older boy but looks stronger than his other companion. His auburn curls flow with the wind as he sprint through the woods. He is darting ahead of his dark haired companion trying to avoid roots and fallen branches. The dark-haired boy seems more quiet and appears to just be following the lead of his more boisterous friends.

 

_Who are these boys? They look familiar. The Woods look familiar. Do I know them? Have I been here before?_

 

The chase continues as the three boys race deeper into the forest. The older boy has taken an important lead over the two younger boys and is beyond their sight in no time. He takes advantage of his position and hides behind a large tree. I can guess his intention: he is gong to push the other boys as they pass him by. _Should I warn them? No. Why should I intervene? It’s just a game._

 

Wait!! I remember this!! I know these boys and I know these woods. I was almost six when this happened. I didn’t see it, but I remember the story: Robb, Jon and Theon were running in the woods when Robb fell and broke his arm. They never told mother and father how it had really happened but I overheard them talk about it. Theon had played a silly trick on Robb and Jon and Robb had tripped and broken his arm. I was too young to have gone with them, but I do remember Robb’s shrieks of agony as Maester Luwin set his bones. Maybe I can spare him the pain ….

 

“Stop!” I yell to the two boys and stand in their path. They keep on running. Can they not see me?

 

Aarrhhgg!! What has just happened? I was standing in front of them and they went through me like air. Am I invisible? Can they not hear me?

 

They are getting closer to Theon. I want to save my brother.

 

I stand behind Theon and whisper into his ear. “Don’t do it Theon, don’t spook Robb and Jon.” I put my hand on his back and wait. I hear his sharp intake of air and I sense his body freeze.

 

“Who’s there?” he whispers, and I can hear fear in his voice.

“Do not spook Robb and Jon” I repeat.

 

Theon turns around and faces me. I put my hands on his chest and try to make eye contact with him, but his eyes never find me. His stares right through me deep into the forest behind me. _He can’t see me!_

 

“Do not spook Robb and Jon” I say again.

 

Gripped by fear he staggers backwards in utter confusion. It is then that Robb catches up with him but is not agile enough to stop in time. Robb has been running with such vehemence and speed that he collides into Theon’s retreating form and they are both pushed onto the ground. They roll on the hard ground for a few seconds before coming to a stop at my feet. They look like a messy tangle of limbs and leaves.

 

“Argh!!!” An painful shriek fills the silence in the forest. Jon helps Theon up and as they are about to pull Robb they stop in their tracks. Why? What happened? Robb is safe, isn’t he? I have stopped Theon!

 

“My arm!” someone yells. It is Robb!

“Is it broken?” asks Jon.

“I think so” replies Robb in pain.

“Oh, Robb, I’m so sorry!” Theon apologizes. “I didn’t mean to. I swear! I was just going to play a trick on you and spook you from behind the tree, but then, then-” Theon begins trailing unsure of how to continue. “I don’t know what happened! There was someone behind me. I could swear! Someone touched me! Someone talked to me! I’m sorry Robb Robb! I swear I didn’t mean to harm you!”

.

.

.

What in the name of the Gods has just happened? I could not save Robb … but Theon heard me. I know he did.

I can change the past. I can save my family. I know I can!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now Bran realizes he can actually interact with people. He will try and interact with different members of his family to see if he can stop them from making mistakes.
> 
> Up next: Bran visits Ned


	3. The King and His Fury (Ned)

**_ 3) The King and his fury. (Ned) _ **

 

I can change things. I can change the past. I can save my family.

 

My father is a very honorable man. No, he _was_ a very honorable man. And it was precisely that honor that got him killed. If only he were not that honorable … But then, it wouldn’t be my father …

 

There he is, I see him. He is riding south with the King and his entourage. I can see my sisters. Their wolves are following them, Lady and Nymeria. My sisters are bickering and arguing. I used to get so angry at them for fighting all the time. They could be so annoying! But now I miss them. I wish I had the chance to play with them again. … Now Arya is fighting with the Prince. She has only a wooden stick, but the Prince is using his sword! When Joffrey threatens Arya, Nymeria attacks him.

 

“No! Arya! Stop it! Please!” I yell, but she does not hear me … Arya is running away, Nymeria is running after her, Joffrey is wailing cowardly, Sansa is crying. This is a mess! Who’s that boy? Mycah, the butcher’s boy. _How do I know this?_ I have never seen that boy before. He is friends with Arya. He is running, but the man on the horse is closing in on him. ... Oh, Gods! I can’t watch this! That man is going to run him over with the horse!

 

“Stop! Have mercy!” I yell at the man, but to no avail … poor boy now lies mangled under the horses’ hooves.

 

We are in a big tent now. The King’s tent. The voices ring in my head.

“He started it!” a child says

“She started it!” a shrilly voice replies.

“They are savages, Robert!” says an angry female voice

“It was the wolf”

“The wolf is nowhere to be found, Your Grace”

“We have another wolf” a woman says with malice

“The wolf is of the North, I’ll do it myself” replies a defeated tired male voice.

“No, not Lady! She didn’t do anything” another girl cries out.

 

I follow my father. He looks pensive. I know what he is about to do. I want to stop him. I have to.

 

“Father, stop!” I yell, but he just keeps going. “Don’t do it Father, Lady didn’t do anything!”

 

I see my Father stop in his tracks. He looks at Lady. He looks back towards the camp. He hesitates. Maybe he heard me?

 

“Father, don’t do it” I try again. My father pulls out his dagger. It feels heavy in his hand, I know it. He brings it up and as he is about to strike down I yell again. He stops. He looks up. He looks behind him. He looks at the dagger. … I did it! He heard me! I stopped him from killing Lady!

 

 _Swoosh!_ The dagger comes down and pierces my sister’s wolf’s fur and comes out covered in red. … I have failed. But my father heard me, I know he did …

.

.

.

I see as my family arrives in King’s Landing. My father chafes in his new responsibilities as Hand of the King. Sansa dreams of one day becoming a Queen. And I hear that father has found Arya a dancing teacher. I never pegged Arya for the dancing type. That would be more of a Sansa thing, but I guess the capital is rubbing off on her. My father is reading a book. It’s an old dusty book, the kind of book Maester Luwin keeps in the library. He looks stressed, distraught even. He has discovered something.

 

“Lionel Bratheon, black of hair. Stephan Baratheon, black of hair. Robert Baratheon, black of hair. Joffrey Baratheon, golden head” he reads.

 

Joffrey has Golden hair, so does Tommen and so does Myrcella. Both Cersei and Jamie have golden heads, as well …

 

Suddenly, another image assaults my mind: a young boy climbing a tower, two naked people, two naked blonde people writhing and moaning on the floor, “The things I do for love” the man says, and then … nothing, darkness, pain, and nothing …

 

 _It can’t be!_ Joffrey is not Robert’s! He is Jamie’s! King Robert will be furious and only the Gods know what he will do to them. I know my father, he is too honorable. He’s going to warn Cersei. It is the right thing to do, innocent children should not pay for the sins of their parents. But if he tells Cersei that he knows the truth, I know how it will end. Maybe I can get him to go to Robert first. That way, Cersei and Jamie will be caught unaware and will not be able to ambush him. Yes, that’s what I’ll do!

 

Too late … he’s already on his way to meet with Cersei, taking advantage of the fact that Robert is out hunting.

 

“Father, don’t!” I yell and I stand in his way. “Father, listen to me!”

He stops. He looks up. He looks back.

“Father, it’s me!” I try again.

His hand goes for his sword. “Who’s there?” he asks.

“Father it’s me Bran!”

“Bran? No, that’s not possible!”

“Father, listen please. You have to believe me. Are you going to tell Cersei that you know the truth about her children?”

“Yes” he says hesitantly after a long pause. I sigh triumphantly: he can hear me!!

“Don’t” I insist and wait for his reaction. When none is forthcoming I continue. “I have seen the future, father. You will try and save Cersei in good faith but she will betray you. She is not to be trusted, father. Do not tell her. Tell Robert and have him deal with it himself. Your hands will be clean father. Do not tell Cersei you know the truth.”

 

He gets on his knees and stays in the yard for a few minutes. I know my father, he is pondering what I have just said and talking to his Gods. After a few seconds he shakes his head and I see a look of resolve on his face. … Have I failed? Does he not believe me?

 

As I am trying to think of a different course of action I see my father get on his feet and go back to his apartments. Yes! He has heard me! I have changed his fate! I have saved him!

 

I follow him and images come to my head again.

 

My father is in the Throne Room, which is unusually empty. It is just the King and my father.

“I am sorry Your Grace, but it is true.” My father is talking to Robert. He is telling him that all his children are bastards born of Jamie Lannister.

Robert goes into a fit of rage. “That lying cunt and her traitorous brother! I should have seen it! Gold in their head may be, but shit in their hearts. I want him sent to the Wall immediately. NO! I want him killed. And her too!”

“Your Grace” my father tries “maybe we do not need to resort to such dire measures. We always give traitors the option of going to the Wall, maybe we should afford Ser Jamie the same courtesy. Have Cersei banished to Casterly Rock and strip her of her titles. Or send her to the Silent Sisters.”

“And what? Give that useless Imp all the titles to Casterly Rock? Maybe he was in on it too. For all I know he fucked her too!”

“I do not believe so, Your Grace. I see no love between your wife and Lord Tyrion.”

“No, she despises him. Oh, but she does love her golden brother! I want him dead!”

“Your Grace, you will be incurring Lord Tywin’s wrath. That might not be a wise thing to do at this moment.”

“You’re just a Hand Ned, do not go over your status. You are to follow my orders, not to tell me what my orders should be.”

“I am to advise you, Your Grace. Both as your Hand and as your friend.”

“Advice duly noted” the King replies coldly. “I want him dead. And her too. And their spawn as well. Get rid of their squirt. Joffrey, he is no son of mine, cocky little shit, just like his father. That brat does not deserve this crown” The King says placing his hand on his head. He is raging, frothing at the mouth. There is no stopping him now, and my father knows it. “The other two also. Myrcella is very pretty and sweet, but she has nothing from me, she’s all Cersei. And Tommen, he is not Kingly, like me. He is just too golden, just like his father. They are all Lannister, there’s nothing Baratheon in them. Get rid of them! All of them!! Come next week I want them dead. I want to spit on their graves as their bodies rot in the ground!!!”

“Aye, Your Grace” my father replies. He leaves the Room. He feels defeated.

 

_And so do I._

Jamie Lannister is taken to the Black Cells and Cersei is locked up in a cell with her children.

 

An event is being prepared. A celebration of sorts, it seems. I see a crowd gathered before the Sept of Baelor.

 

“Ser Jamie Lannister!” the King bellows from the balcony. “You are accused of treason and lying to your King. You are accused of incest. You should have been punished when you killed your previous King, Kingslayer. You’ll take your sentence now. Do you have anything to say in your defence?”

 

A haggard Ser Jamie is brought forward. His clothes are torn and in tatters. His golden hair has been shaven clean and he sports bruises all over his exposed skin. He can barely move in his shackles and almost falls when he stumbles forward. _He pushed me and almost killed me. I can’t say I feel pity for him, but I’m not sure he deserves this._

When he says nothing, the King continues. “Ser Ilyn, bring me his head”

 

A sharp _whoosh_ is heard followed by the _thud_ of a body falling to the ground. The King is boiling with wild fury. My father is silent. The crowd is ecstatic. I am afraid.

 

I look at the children. Tommen is crying, Myrvella has fainted, and Joffrey is spitting insults. He is the first child to be executed, followed by Myrcella and then Tommen. Cersei goes last having seen all her children die before her very eyes. Robert is smirking cruelly. My father is standing next to him. He is appalled. I see a tear run down his cheek. Sansa is crying openly and Arya is holding her hand in silence.

 

After the execution, Father sends the girls back to their room and goes to his solar. He kneels down and starts praying. I know what he is doing. I have seen him in this position countless times. He is asking the Gods for forgiveness and guidance. He is sad and confused. Suddenly, a sharp knock at the door brings him out of his trance.

 

“Lord Tywin Lannister” my father greets the man at the door, taken aback by the presence of the old Lion in his apartments. “I am very sorry for your loss. What can I do for you?” he asks and warily places his hand on the pommel of his sword.

 

Lord Tywin does not answer. I have this terrible sense of foreboding. I watch helplessly as the old man forcefully pushes my father back and more men enter the room. There is a man bigger than any man I have ever seen, bigger than Hodor. He draws his sword and walks towards Father. Father draws his sword but is powerless against five. I stand and watch as five men attack my father and repeatedly pierce him with their swords. _No! No! No!_ I yell at the men and stand in their way. I try to stop their swords with my own hand and put my own body in front of them. But their blows just go through me. My father lies on the floor bleeding, dying. As he draws his final breath, Lord Tywin spits on his body and saunters out of the room.

 

I have failed.

 

.

.

.

I could not save my father this time. But I cannot give up. I have to find another way. I know I can save my family. I know it in my bones. I know it in my blood.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so things didn't really turn out the way Bran planned. 
> 
> Up next: Robb


	4. The Man in the Battle (Robb)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remeber, after each chapter the timeline will restart since they are all separate stories. This chapter is NOT a continuation of the previous one ...

**_ 4) The man in the battle. (Robb) _ **

 

My father left Winterfell weeks ago with my sisters and Jon left the same day. My mother also left not too long afterwards and now my brother Robb is leaving together with Theon. It’s just Rickon and me now holding the fort.

 

A raven had arrived a few days before stating that my father had been arrested for treason and summoning Robb to King’s Landing to swear fealty to King Joffrey. My brother said he was going, but not to swear fealty. He called the banners and most of the Northern Lords answered the call. Their outrage at Joffrey for arresting my father was quite flattering, I must admit. These men truly honor and respect my father.

 

So now, I follow my brother Robb as he rides South. He looks too young to be in charge of an army, but he rides proud. All these past weeks I have been so sullen, wallowing in my own misery about not being able to use my legs that I have failed to see my brother grow. Mind you, I am entitled to my wallowing. Where is the justice in a young child such as myself to have had the accident I had? Where is the justice in a young boy such as myself to lose the use of his legs and become a cripple for the rest of his life? But my brother had nothing to do with it. In fact, for the past weeks he has been my father and my mother, my brother and my friend. And to him I have been nothing but a crying nuisance. And yet, here he goes. Another member of my family I will lose to this folly grown men call war. If only I could stop him …

 

They are in the Riverlands now. It’s a pretty big camp he has built with all his bannermen. They are discussing strategy and numbers. I really don’t get most of what they say. But it’s not the map and the pieces on the table that call my attention, it’s the two riders that approach the camp that my eyes are glued to. I would recognize her every time. I see the Lords meet her with respect. I see her and my brother look at each other with longing. I see them embrace and hug with tenderness. Why is it that my brother gets to see Mother after so long and I never got to see her again?

 

My father rots in a dungeon, my older sister is a prisoner of the Queen and my younger sister has disappeared. And now apparently Robb and Mother are going to save them and bring them back. They will storm into King’s Landing, defeat the Lannisters, break into the dungeons, free my father, rescue Sansa from the Queen, find Arya in the woods, and then they will all return home and cross the gates of Winterfell to the beat of victory drums. It sounds beautiful, doesn’t it? So glorious and heroic. Just like the songs Sansa likes to listen to. If only they knew ….

 

They need to cross the river now. The only way across it is through the Twins, where Old Walder Frey is Lord. My brother wants to go himself to negotiate, but my mother believes it is safer if she goes. Robb awaits her return anxiously. He paces and frets. Finally my mother returns. I can’t read her expression. Was she successful?

 

“Lord Walder has granted your crossing” she begins. “His men are yours as well.” _That’s great news!_ I sense the optimism in Robb and his men, yet my mother has an apprehensive look on her face. “Arya will marry his son Waldron when they both come of age” _She won’t be happy about that_. “And you will marry one of his daughters.” So that was it. Yes, we can have the men, but they get to keep Arya after the war and we get to share the North with one of theirs. Not too bad, I suppose. At least we will all be safe, even if Arya will not be with us at home, but we’ll know where she is and we will be able to visit her at the Twins. That is definitely an improvement over how bleak things are now.

 

I don’t find the terms too bad, but Robb does not agree. I suppose he’s not very happy at the prospect to have to marry a Frey. Arya won’t be too thrilled, either. But he is determined to see this through, whatever the costs. He consents without giving it a second thought. We leave the Twins with an army much bigger than the one we had left the North with, and we are slowly inching our way to King’s Landing.

 

A raven has arrived. I don’t need to read it to know what is says. _My father is dead_. Mother is crying. Robb is killing all things Lannister which have suddenly materialized in a tree. The poor tree is suffering the wrath of the new Lord of Winterfell as Robb beats his sword senselessly against its trunk. My mother and brother hug each other and try to console one another.

“I will kill them all” he promises.

“The have your sisters. We have to get the girls back” my mother replies. “Then we will kill them all”.

 

They both carry such severity in their words that I want to believe them. I want to believe they will ride into King’s Landing, they will find Sansa and Arya, and then they will kill them all. The severity and solemnity of their words is also reflected in my brother’s bannermen in the council.

 

“There sits the only King I mean to bend my knee to” Lord Karstark vows.

“The King in the North!” echoes in the Hall.

“The King in the North!”

 

My brother is a King. King in the North. I suppose that makes me a prince. The Prince of Winterfell. I have to admit he looks rather Kingly with his newly grown beard, his hair weathered by the roughness of the war camp and the new scars he has acquired. He is definitely not the same young boy who left Winterfell all those moons ago. He looks proud and afraid at the same time. I suppose he must fear what lies ahead: war. Mother looks wary. I’m sure she must be proud of what Robb has become, but at the same time she feels she has failed. She wanted to come home, for everybody to go home.

 

So on to war we march. ….

 

Theon is trying to convince Robb to send him to Pyke, to try and rally his father’s men to our cause. I know how that ends … I have to stop Robb. I cannot let him make that mistake. I know he has no reason not to trust Theon. He may be an obnoxious and conceited brat, but he has never wronged Robb (or any of us for that matter). Robb has no way of suspecting Theon’s betrayal. He even argues with mother about that. They have been arguing a lot lately, about Theon, about what to do, about how to get Sansa and Arya, about the Kingslayer. Mother wants to come home, but Robb needs her. He needs her to go negotiate with Renly. Maybe she can get Renly to side with Robb, then their army will be so mighty that conquering King’s Landing will be a walk in the park.

 

Robb is on his way to talk to Theon. I need to stop him or there will be a new Prince of Winterfell soon. I stand on his way and will him to stop with all my might. To my disappointment, but not to my surprise, he walks right through me, his footsteps firm, his eyes looking forward. I will try the vocal approach now.

 

“Robb, don’t send Theon to his father” I tell him. He stops walking. He looks to one side, then to the other. He resumes his walk.

“Robb, please, listen. Don’t send Theon to Pyke.” He stops again. He draws his sword.

“Who’s there? Show yourself coward and I’ll run you through” he threatens.

“Robb, it’s me, Bran”

“Liar. Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Bran. Please, do not send Theon to his father. He will betray you and the Ironborn will attack the North. Theon will take Winterfell.”

“Whoever you are get out of my way!” he warns wielding his sword in all directions. He cannot see me, but he can hear me.

“Do not send Theon to Pyke” I say hoping I will get my message across. But it is not to be. He just keeps on walking with that determined look in his eyes until he reaches Theon’s tent. They make preparations for his trip to the Iron Islands and Theon leaves the following morning.

 

I was not able to stop my brother this time, but I know he heard me. I just need to find another way to get to him …

 

My brother rides into battle just a few weeks later. I am still in awe of how skilled a fighter he is and how smart a general he has become. Even his bannermen comment on that. The battle is hard and bloody. Our army has won, but there are many casualties on both sides. He surveys the field after the battle. He talks to his men and makes sure his wounded soldiers are properly taken care of. And that’s when she meets her … Talisa is her name. She is a healer from Volantis, and a very good one apparently. I have seen her save lives I would consider forfeit. I have seen her bring soldiers from the grasp of the Stranger back into the land of the Seven.

 

I have nothing against her. She seems decent and nice, and Robb seems to be smitten by her. I suppose you could say she is pretty. As I said, I have nothing against her … if it wasn’t for the fact that Robb has promised himself to another … She seems to have him wrapped around her fingers now. They are talking about marriage. I need to get rid of her. My mother is back from her trip to the South and appears to be of the same idea.

 

“Robb, do not marry Talisa” I tell him one night as he lies down to bed.

“Who’s there?” he yells getting on his feet and reaching for his sword.

“No need for the sword Robb. It’s me, Bran.”

“You’re lying! Bran is miles away in Winterfell. There is no way he could have travelled all the way to the Riverlands. Show yourself, craven!”

“Robb, it is me” I say emphasizing every syllable.

“Bran?” he finally asks. I feel he wants to believe it is me more than he actually does.

“Yes, big brother. It’s me. Please listen. Do not marry Talisa.”

“Why not? Have you been speaking to mother?”

“No. But you cannot marry her”

“Why not? I love her.”

“I know you do. And she seems nice. But you are promised to another. If you marry her, you will break your word to the Freys and the consequences will be dire.”

“What are you talking about, little brother?”

“If you marry her, the Freys will betray you. They will kill you. They will kill her. They will kill mother. And they will slaughter most of your army. Do not marry her. Send her away.”

“But she has done nothing wrong”

“No, she hasn’t. But if she stays here you will. Please Robb, heed my advice. Send her away.”

 

He says nothing for a while. Does he believe me? I truly hope he does. He scrubs his eyes, gets up and splashes some water on his face. He looks confused. He leaves the tent and starts wandering around the camp. Is he going to talk to her now? I hope he is not. I mean, on the one hand, I want him to send her away, but on the other hand, he cannot send a girl away from the safety of the camp in the middle of the night. I feel a tinge of relief when I see him head for the kennels. He is going to GreyWind. Just like I used to go to Summer whenever I felt lost.

 

Talisa leaves the following morning. He has given her instructions to meet the Mallisters at Seagard and help them in the western front. I feel bad for Robb. He looks lonely now. But it’s all for the best. I hope.

 

Temptation is gone, but the war continues. They fight another battle and then another. My brother seems like an unstoppable force and I feel so proud of him.

 

Things seem to be looking up. We are winning and there is talk of marriage now. My brother has pledged himself to Roslin, one of Old Walder Frey’s granddaughters and the Freys have paid in kind. We have received a larger contingent of men from the Twins. Even Waldron Frey himself, Arya’s betrothed, rides along with Robb now. They seem to be getting along very well, which is a good sign of things to come if we are to win and Arya is to marry this young man.

 

Another river, another battle. Robb’s army greatly outnumbers the Lannister’s army. Robb leads his men with valour and courage, which is something he learned from my father. He leads by example and rides in front of the cavalry, much to mother’s chagrin. The battle is merciless and men fall on both sides. Robb is a fierce fighter. He wields his sword, he uses his shield, he rallies his men, he runs from one end to the other, he takes care of his enemies and defends his companions.

 

Suddenly a man stands behind Robb and starts getting close to him. I see it all in slow motion but am unable to stop him. Robb is facing the other way and does not see him. I get in his way, but his sword cuts right through me. As I see this man bring his sword down on me I expect for pain to follow. But none comes, only a whispered gasp and a gurgling sound. Did he hurt me? No, I feel fine. I have no pain. A soft thud of a body hitting the muddy ground reaches my ears and fear grips me. _It is not me who is hurt_.

 

“The King has fallen” someone yells. I turn around and see Robb lying on the ground bleeding. Someone kills the man who hurt Robb, the SmallJon I believe it is. He then picks Robb up in his arms and pulls him out of the fray. The battle continues, but I have lost interest. I follow the men as they take my brother to a tent. Men come and leave. A nurse comes and goes to fetch more supplies. Someone helps my mother who is weeping uncontrollably. Apparently we have won the battle, but I don’t think my brother will be there to reap the benefits. The nurse has no clue as to how to save him. We need a healer. We had one, but I sent her away.

 

My brother dies in my mother’s arms.

I have failed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Arya


	5. The Girl on the Run (Arya)

**_ 5) The girl on the run. (Arya)  _ **

 

I watch my sister as she struggles to survive. The things she has seen and endured these past few moons have given me nightmares. She has seen our father lose his head, she has been forced to hide, fight and kill. She has seen torture, she has seen death and she has seen suffering. She has stared at the Stranger in the eyes and laughed in his face. She has done things I would have never dared to even imagine. She was always the brave one. Whenever we played she was the knight, Sansa would be the princess and I would be the dragon. Arya was always the strong one. But I had always thought it was just at play, I had no idea she was so strong. If only she knew where her courage would take her …

 

Maybe if she hadn’t left King’s Landing, she would have been with Sansa and together they might have fared better. I tried to warn her not to leave, but she didn’t listen. She was escaping the guards when she came across a cart carrying all their stuff. She looked for Needle, and that’s when I first appeared to her. I tried to tell her not to leave the city, to stay with Sansa. I suppose I must have startled her. I caught her unaware when she was already in a state of utter confusion and fear. Frightened by my voice she recoiled and stumbled upon that poor kid. Needle went right through him and they both stared at the offending blade protruding from the boy’s chest. One in fear of what would happen to him, the other in repulsion of what she had done.

 

She had killed an innocent boy because of me. I steered clear of her for a while after that. I contented myself to watch from a distance.

 

I restrained myself as she was captured by one band and then another, as she starved, suffered, and cried in silence. Yes, none of her companions knew she was crying, but I did. She is with the Botherhood now. They scare me. They are knights, but they answer to no King. Some of them used to answer to my father, so that is small comfort. I guess Arya thinks the same since she seems to trust them.

 

But if she trust them, why is she running away from them? I know she is trying to find Robb and mother, but she will never make it on her own. Oh, her damned stubbornness!

 

She flees one enemy only to fall in the hands of another. She has been captured by the Hound now. He terrifies me! His scared burned face is hideous! Well, look at me, _the cripple fearing the deformed._

 

I see my sister travelling together with the Hound now. She hates him. I know that. She repeats his name every night. _Cersei, Joffrey, Ilyn Payne, the Hound._ Cersei and Joffrey abused and tormented Sansa for weeks, Joffrey ordered my father killed and Ilyn Payne did the deed, the Hound butchered her friend Mycah. She repeats their names like a prayer. Some people make promises to the Gods. Arya makes promises to these people. She whispers their names, but the whispers come with a threat: “I will kill you”. And knowing my sister I have no doubts she will fulfill her threats one day.

 

That’s why I’m very surprised she has not tried to killed The Hound yet. It seems their relationship is changing. I don’t even want to think about this since the wound my father’s death has left in me is till open, but, could it be possible that The Hound has become a father figure for her?

 

I know where he is taking her. The Twins. That’s where mother and Robb are. The Hound said they were there for the wedding between my uncle and a Frey girl. He intends to trade with them for Arya. Maybe they can find each other and come home safely!

 

It is nightfall when they reach the gates of the Twins. But something does not feel right. The images come to my head now. Images and sounds I wish I could erase from my mind: _betrayal, pain, blood, oaths, arrows, death. I see my brother fall to a shower of arrows. I see my Mother being silenced for ever. I see GreyWind taking one last look at a familiar face. And then nothing. Blackness._ No!!!

 

Arya is making a bolt for the castle gates. She has escaped from the Hound’s watchful eyes and is darting through the yard to the main doors. I have to stop her. If she goes in, she’ll be killed alongside my brother and mother.

 

“Stop!” I yell at her. “Arya, stop!”

But she just ignores me. If she has heard me, I cannot tell. Her mind is set. She stops at the kennels and sees GreyWind. A ray of hope stirs in her. And in me also. Maybe I have read this wrong. Maybe if she can free GreyWind they can both storm the Hall and stop the soldiers!!

 

What am I thinking? She’s just a girl. With or without the wolf she is powerless against armed soldiers. My grim realization is further confirmed when the guards approach the kennel and shoot my bother’s wolf dead. He falls to the ground and I can see him through the slit just below the door. His eyes become blurry as they set on Arya. At least the last thing he saw was family …

 

But Arya is still intent on going in. I have to stop her!

“Don’t go in!” I yell, but she just disregards me. I think she heard me. She made quick sideways move with her hand as if to drive unwanted pestering flies away. I am an unwanted pestering voice to her right now.

 

If I cannot reach my sister, I will try and reach her saviour. The Hound. I find him in the crowd. He is about to leave.

“Get Arya” I whisper to his ear. “She’s in the yard by the kennels.” He looks up in confusion. “You have to save her. You can ransom for her later” I continue. He looks at a jar of ale he has picked up from an empty table and eyes it with suspicion, almost as if he were willing it to provide the answers to his questions. He gulps the last sips and heads for the kennels. Yes!

 

I see him as he tries to get Arya, but she puts up a fight. She can be so goddamned stubborn. He finally resorts to what he knows best. He clubs her in the head and she falls quietly in his arms. Gods! What has he done? Has he killed her? Have I killed her?

 

The Hound gets on his horse and rides away. Away from the fight. Away from the fire. Away from the blood. Away from the screams. I breathe out a big sigh of relief when Arya comes to the following morning. She is extremely angry at the Hound for not letting her go save her family. But she does not realize that she would have failed. She would have died as well. The Hound saved her life. _I saved her life_!!

 

They keep riding. They meet people. They kill people. They rob people. What has Arya become? If Father and Mother could see her now! They would be appalled at her behaviour … or thrilled to see she has survived.

 

The Hound intends to take her to the Eyrie, to my aunt’s. Maybe if she finds family she’ll be safe. I hope my aunt welcomes her into her house. But they never get there. They are stopped by a big burly knight and his squire. Oh, _her_ squire. The big burly knight is a woman. I can see Arya’s mixture of awe and anger at the woman. Anger, because she carries a Lannister armour. Awe, that a woman could be such a skilled fighter. And she is indeed very skilled! She has just beaten the Hound of all people! She tries to look for Arya, but my sister is hiding. This woman promises she will take care of her. She says she is trying to help her.

 

Who is this woman? Suddenly I see images of her with Mother. She is making her promises. She is helping my mother. Maybe she does mean well, but then why is she carrying the Lannister sigil? It is all very confusing. I hear words such as _oathbreaker, promises, oath to Catelyn Stark._ All of a sudden I have this notion that she is to be trusted. I want Arya to go with her.

 

“Arya, go with the woman” I tell her. But she waves me away again. I’m the unwanted pestering fly. “Arya, go with her” but to no avail.

 

Her mind is set. She is going her own path. She leaves the Hound to die a cruel and long painful death. This is not the Arya I know and love.

 

She makes for the shore and enquires about a boat leaving for Braavos. I cannot let her do this. If she gets on the boat she will never be back. She will never be Arya Stark of Winterfell again. She needs to go home. She needs to find herself again.

 

“Arya, listen to me! Do not get on the boat!” She grimaces and tries to focus on the sea shimmering in the sunlight.

“Arya, please, it’s Bran. Listen to me!”

“Will you shut up! You have been pestering me for the longest time!”

“Arya, can you hear me?” I ask taken aback by her sudden outburst.

“Of course I can, you stupid!”

“If you can hear me, why did you never say so?”

“Because I wasn’t sure it was you. And besides, you were telling me to do things I did not want to do.”

“So you ignored me and went your own way” I prompt.

“Yes. I’m older than you. You don’t get to give me advice”

“So, how has that worked out for you?” I am suddenly glad I am incorporeal or I would have certainly been a victim of her violent rage. If looks could kill I would surely be dead.

“I have survived this far, haven’t I?” she replies coldly.

“Arya, listen, please. I am sorry about that. That was uncalled for. But you have to listen to me. I have seen where you want to go. If you board that ship you will be lost forever.”

“Will the ship sink?”

“No, but your soul will. Do not go down that path. Go home. Find yourself. We can still be together, what remains of us. Go home”

“Alright brother. I will heed your advice” she says solemnly. “But just this one time” she adds.

 

I did it! I saved her! She’s not going to Braavos, she’s going home!

 

I walk with her and keep her company as we head North. We don’t speak much, but she knows I’m walking right beside her. Days are long and nights are cold when you’re all alone. She is not alone, but she and I are alone together. She wishes Nymeria could be with her. I know she would feel safer if she had her wolf. And so would I.

 

We hide in the woods whenever we feel people approaching. We sneak into towns at night and seek shelter in abandoned holdfasts. We listen to people. That’s how we have come to learn things. The North is in disarray. Robb and his army have been defeated. The North has fallen into the hands of the Boltons. The Lannisters have won. Joffrey has been killed and Sansa has been missing. The Boltons have been rewarded for their role in my family’s murder. Ramsay Bolton is to be Lord of the Dreadfort and is looking for a bride who would consolidate his hold in the North. “A Stark would be ideal” we hear a man say. “Too bad the two brats are both missing” another one replies.

 

“I will never marry Ramsay Bolton. He is a traitor and he conspired to murder my brother and mother!” Arya challenges them in rage.

No! Arya, what have you done? We were supposed to remain inconspicuous until we reached Winterfell. Too late now. They see her. They draw their swords. It’s five of them against two of us. Well, one of us actually; there is not much I can do in this form …

“Run Arya!” I yell. “I will try and stop them!”

 

My sister runs away, and I stand in their way. I try to stop the blows with my body but it’s no use. I try to tackle them when they start chasing after Arya, but it’s like trying to stop the wind. They catch up to her in no time. They try to bind her and gag her, but my sister puts up a fight. She will not be caught alive, I know this. And I dread this.

 

I turn around. I cannot look. I close my eyes. All I hear now is her cries as they try to subdue her. They are not kind. And Arya is not giving up. I can’t watch this. They are hurting her and I can’t stop them!!

 

Finally the screaming stops. None too gently they haul her onto a cart and resume their way. We are travelling North, but not to the same place we were headed.

 

It is only a few days later that we arrive at the Dreadfort. I have never been here. It is indeed a dreadful place. Maybe my opinion is biased because I know the sort of thing that goes on in this place. I cannot let Arya go through it. I need to get her out of here. I cannot let Ramsay Bolton lay his hands on her … Speaking of which, here he comes …

 

“My bride!” he greets us. “My beautiful wife!” he continues with a hideous smirk on his lips. “Well, if you take away the grime and mud, that is. Don’t worry, my little wolf, I’ll make sure to get all your savage Stark remainders off your filthy skin. You’ll be like a new girl” he says in a way that makes my blood boil.

 

Being gagged and bound Arya cannot do more than grunt and squirm. He gets closer to her. I want to intervene, but my efforts are all in vain. I am helpless to watch this man touch my sister’s cheek. His gestures confuse me. Were it not for the fact that I know who he is and what he does, I would say he sounds gentle, even caring perhaps. He tenderly wipes mud off my sister’s face and coos her into a false sense of security. But my sister does not fall for it. She has been burned too many times. And she knows what his family has done to ours.

 

The second Ramsay removes the gag and looses her wrists she makes a dash for the gates. I cheer her as she runs. They were not expecting her to run, so she is able to get a good lead. Arya is a fast runner, they will have to run even faster to get to her. “Come on, sister, you can do it!” I push her. … But they are not running after her.

 

“I gave you your chance little wolf” Ramsay says sweetly and for a minute I am confused. …. Until I hear Ramsay’s next orders.

“Get the dogs” he says to his men.

 

I follow the men to the kennels. I stand helplessly by as they open the doors and the hounds come out. The men give the command and the chase begins. My sister does not stand a chance. She can outrun men, I have seen her do so countless times these past months, but she cannot outrun these rabid beasts.

 

I hear my sister panting. I hear the dogs snarling. I see their hot breath condense in the cold air forming an ominous mist around their mouths. They bare their teeth, they tense their bodies, they double their pace. They are closing in on Arya. She is headed to the river. The cold water will surely kill her if she jumps in, but at least it might give her a better chance to escape. Dogs are slow swimmers. She’ll make it. I know she will. They are getting closer. They are slowly closing the gap between them, inch by inch. She is so close to the river now. She will make it. She will make it. She will make it. She will … She doesn’t. The dogs are on her now. I try to cover my ears. I don’t want to hear her screams.

 

“Good job my darlings” Ramsay Bolton’s creepy voice says behind me. He approaches his hounds and pets them softly on their backs. He even wipes my sister’s blood off their snouts. “Well, time to find myself another wife. Any news on Sansa Stark?”

 

I spare one last look at him, one last look at this place and vow never to return.

.

.

She would have been safer in Braavos I reflect belatedly.

I have failed. Again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fat Walda I am so very very sorry! Her death was one of the most horrible scenes in the show (well, among many others ...)
> 
> Up next: Sansa ... maybe Bran's luck will change ?


	6. The Girl and her Dog (Sansa)

  1. **_The girl and her Dog. (Sansa)_**



 

There she is. She looks so beautiful. She looks just like Mother. She is such a refined lady. It’s no surprise she called her wolf Lady. She will make a fine wife one day, and a very good mother. I speak from experience. There have been many times where Mother was busy with Rickon and it was my sister Sansa who would put me to bed, sing me lullabies, help me with my clothes, draw my bath, play with me, etc. I know I will miss her while she lives in King’s Landing. The idea was for her to marry Prince Joffrey and become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms after King Robert. All this was before I had the accident … It was a completely different story that I woke up to …

 

I follow the caravan as they ride South. I was supposed to go as well and become a knight. I should have been there, but … well, _it’s no use dwelling_ … I see my father conversing with King Robert. I see my other sister Arya, she is playing with a boy called Mycah. I see Sansa taking a walk with Joffrey. I have to admit he really does look royal. I see Queen Cersei and her brother the Kingslayer. They look awfully close to each other. I have never gazed at Sansa or Arya the way they look at each other, nor have I seen Robb do the same to my sisters. “ _The things I do for love”_ echoes in my ears and I have this terrible image of a hand shooting out of a window and a boy falling.

 

My sisters are quarrelling now. Arya is fighting with the Prince. It’s not fair! My sister’s sword is made of wood and he is using live steel. … Nymeria to the rescue! Arya’s wolf jumps at Joffrey and almost tears his hand off. Serves you right you smug Prince! Who’s laughing now, eh? …Oh, no! he’s hurt badly! The King and Queen won’t be happy about that. He’s telling his mother. He’s telling his father. They are calling Sansa. They are looking for Arya now, but she has run away. Sansa is talking to the Queen now.

 

“Yes, you are right, Your Grace” my sister says. “It was Arya that started it.”

 

“No! Sansa, what have you done? Why are you lying?” I shout at her. “You know perfectly well that it was Joffrey. He started it.” I keep yelling but she does not seem to hear me. “He taunted Arya and Mycah. He challenged them to a duel. He made them use wooden sticks while he used a real sword!” It’s no use. However hard I try and however loud I yell, my words seem to fall on deaf ears. I cannot reach my sister and I cannot catch her attention.

 

It is all happening so fast. My father and his men are still looking for Arya. Somebody finds her and brings her to the Royal tent. My father is summoned. Prince Joffrey tells his lies and Arya gives her version of the events. All the while I am standing next to Sansa. She seems unsure about how to proceed. Maybe she is having second thoughts about lying. I know why she is lying, though: she wants to impress her betrothed. She has always dreamed of marrying a prince and she feels Arya and her foolish antics are ruining her dreams.

 

“Don’t do it Sansa. Do not lie” I whisper in her ear. “The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Keep your pack, sister.” No reaction. “ Family Duty Honor. Your Honor and Duty are to tell the truth. Family comes first.” Nothing.

 

The Queen is raging. She wants vengeance. She wants to kill Nymeria, but Arya’s wolf has vanished into thin air. I hear the Queen ordering they kill Lady. My father says he will do it, though I know he is loathed to have to do so. I try to hold Sansa as she cries and whisper soft words into her ear. I’m not sure she can hear me, but she seems to be calming down. She cries herself to sleep that night.

 

I have failed. I wish I could have done more … Still, the journey continues until we reach the gates of the capital.

 

King’s Landing is all I expected and more!! Look at the castle, the Red Keep, the Sept of Baelor. Everything Maester Luwin has taught me in his lessons I see with my own eyes now. We go past the gates and into the city following the narrow cobblestone streets. I imagine all the knights I know from stories who have walked through these same streets throughout centuries of noble history. I see all the colours of the city. The white in the walls, the red on the roofs, the grey on the streets, the blue in the sea. I see the people of the city cheering their King and waving at the royal family as we ride by. No wonder Sansa wants to be part of this so bad. I would have been part of this as well if … Never mind, _it’s no use dwelling_ …

 

Days go by and I follow Sansa wherever she goes. She loves spending time with the Queen and Myrcella along with Jeyne Poole. I’m glad Jeyne was able to come along, she keeps Sansa good company. I barely see Arya these days, she’s always running around here and there and going to her dancing lessons. And I barely see father. He’s always busy. He barely talks to Arya and Sansa. Has he forgotten about them?

 

Something’s going on. People are running and I hear screams all around us. The clang of metal hitting metal assaults my ears. I know that sound: swords. Septa Mordane comes to take Sansa and Jeyne. She looks worried. We are surrounded by guards. She tells the girls to run but she stays behind. I have a very bad feeling about this. I follow my sister and her friend as they run through the halls and corridors, until the guards catch up with us. They take Jeyne away and they escort Sansa to the Throne room. The Queen is there. She says father has been arrested for treason.

 

No! That can’t be! They say King Robert has died and that Father has tried to usurp the throne. Father is no usurper! Father is no traitor! Sansa is terrified and I try to hold her hand, but she does not see me. As much as I try to squeeze her hand, my fingers just go through her. She is afraid for herself, for Arya, for Father, for Jeyne, for Septa Mordane.

 

Days go by and she has no news of Arya or Father. She is told father is in prison but that he refuses to confess or cooperate. The Queen says Arya has disappeared and is most likely dead. Sansa refuses to believe that. I refuse to believe that.

 

Sansa is taken to the Sept of Baelor. I have this ominous feeling on the pit of my stomach. I know what is about to happen. My fears are confirmed when Father is brought out in chains. He is confessing to a long list of crimes. But I know he is innocent. I can see it in his eyes, and I can hear it in his voice. I know it in my bones – my father is innocent. He is being sentenced to the Wall.

 

No! Everything is happening so fast! King Joffrey has changed his mind. Ser Ilyn steps forward holding a longsword. Ice. I recognize it. They are going to execute father with his own sword. I can’t watch. I can’t let Sansa watch this. I put my hands on her face trying to spare her. She closes her eyes and mutters a quiet “thank you”. She faints shortly afterwards.

 

The days that follow are a blur. Sansa spends her days wondering about Arya and Jeyne. And she prays a lot. She prays for father. She prays for our family. She prays for me. We receive news that Robb has raised up arms against Joffrey in retaliation for Father’s murder. Sansa prays for Robb to be successful and deliver her from this hell.

 

I wipe her face as she sleeps. I can tell she is having nightmares, the way her face frowns and the way she moans and whimpers in her sleep. I truly feel for her. Her hopes and dreams have been quickly and cruelly shot down by Joffrey. She wanted a gallant knight who would treat her like a princess. Instead, she got a bastard that has her beaten and punished every time Robb wins a battle, as if it were Sansa’s fault. I fear she will crumble any time soon. There is only so much abuse a girl can take. But not my sister. She has built an armour around her. She has become a stone wall.

 

“I am a traitor’s daughter” she says. “My brother and mother are traitors.” And every time she utters those words I see a piece of her soul falling and her brick wall becoming stronger. Soon, there will be no more Sansa left. I have to get her out of here.

 

The King is scared now. And so is the Queen. Stannis is planning an invasion and is only a few days away. I hear Sansa secretly praying for a Stannis victory. She wants Stannis to win and execute all the Lannisters, even if that means her as well, she is ready to die so long as she can be free. I cannot let that happen.

 

Stannis attacks after nightfall. All the women are gathered in the Throne Room under the protection of Ser Ilyn Payne. I eye his “protection” with suspicion. How is he going to protect us on his own if Stannis’s men storm the Room? He exchange glances with the Queen. I don’t like this one bit. A small vial is conspicuously imbedded in the folds of her dress. She’s not even trying to hide it. It suddenly dawns on me. She does not intend to be caught alive. Will her resolve extend to her children as well? And Sansa? I have to get my sister out of here.

 

“Sansa, go to your room” I try. She closes her eyes. “Leave, go to your room” I repeat. Her brow frowns and her lips are pressed. Has she heard me?

“Excuse me,” she says as she stands up. “I left something in my room. May I be excused?”

 

She makes for the door. Ilyn Payne stands in her way, but the Queen just shakes her head slightly and the henchman lets my sister through.

 

Yes! I silently cheer.

 

The room is dark when we arrive, but the door is ajar. I walk in with trepidation and my heart skips a beat when a gruff voice greets us from within the empty blackness.

 

“Hello little bird” he says. I know him. And so does Sansa. He is an imposing figure and he terrifies me. But I know he has saved Sansa on many an occasion. He held her as Joffrey showed her Father’s severed head. He helped her when Meryn Trant was beating her. He saved her from the mob in the riot … He means to run away. He offers to take her with him. My sister is not convinced. I know he frightens her. It is his burned face, his gruff voice an his total demeanour that makes Sansa uneasy, but he may be our only way out of this mess.

 

“Go with him” I implore her. “Sansa, go with him. He can take you home” I whisper gently in her ear.

“Will you take me home?” she asks.

“Aye” The Hound replies.

 

And so they leave. Relief flowing through my veins, I follow them as they make their way out into the dark streets and through alleys and narrow paths. They keep out of sight of soldiers, guards, city watch and civilians in general. He does not want to be seen and is very good at remaining in the shadows.

 

We finally make it out of the city. We leave the screaming and yelling behind. They walk until the city has become a little yellow speck in the dark horizon. They make camp for the remainder of the night and it is not long until the sun rises in the sea. It is a clear morning but the air smells of death and burning. The beach is silent, but we can see remnants of sinking ships and bodies floating in the bay. Sansa closes her eyes and tries to stifle a cry.

 

“Do not cry, little bird” he says in a tone that tries to sound tender. Maybe he is not that bad after all. Maybe he will indeed help her and take her home.

 

They resume their march and head in a generally northerly direction. Winterfell is to the North. So is Riverrun. They walk for hours during the day. Every so often he would leave Sansa and go on his own. He would return later with food and water. He says he has been hunting or that he has bought these things from traders. His blood-soiled clothes say otherwise. But Sansa chooses to ignore that. And so do I.

 

Suddenly we hear the rustling of leaves behind us, the unmistakable thud of hooves hitting the ground and the voices of soldiers. Clegane tells Sansa to hide behind the trees and crouches right next to her. When the soldiers finally come into view we see they carry a Lannister banner. Clegane puts his hand on Sansa’s mouth to prevent her from screaming. But his efforts are in vain. They have been spotted. The soldiers draw their swords and force them out of hiding. They taunt Sansa and hector the Hound. “Traitor” “Craven” they call him. Not one to be intimidated into fear, the Hound pulls out his sword. He challenges the soldiers and charges against the one closest to him. He yells for Sansa to run but my sister is rooted to the spot, paralyzed with fear. I try to get her to move, but we have lost precious seconds. By the time she tries to make a run, she is caught by the soldiers. She can only watch as Clegane is attacked by five soldiers at the same time. He may be a good fighter, but one against five is no contest. Mercifully they do not kill him. I wonder if it is really a mercy. What will Joffrey do to a craven traitorous Hound? What will he do to my sister? I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

 

The soldiers bind Sansa’s hands behind her back and do the same to The Hound. They are forced to march back to the city. It is not an easy trek, with the soldiers mounted on horses and pulling my sister and The Hound with a rope tied to their necks. By the time they make it back to the city they are bruised and battered, much to my dismay … and much to the amusement of King Joffrey.

 

“The traitorous Hound and his bitch” he smirks smugly. “They escaped together, it is only fitting they are killed together.”

 

They take Sansa to the black cells. I hear her cry and I hear the Hound trying to reassure her. But he can’t. No one can.

 

It is three days later when they drag them out into the Sept of Baleor. The crowd roars below. The same people who should have been cheering for my sister and calling her their Queen are now booing her and throwing things at her. Rotten fruit, eggs, rocks, soiled rags and even shit is flung at her. With her hands tied behind her back, she can’t even wipe the offending gunk off her face. She humiliates herself further by wetting herself. The crowd revels in her suffering. But no one shows their joy more than Joffrey himself.

 

“We have a rabid dog and his bitch that need to be put down” he yells to a boisterous crowd. “Ser Ilyn, bring me their heads”.

 

I close my eyes and turn around. A swoosh and a thud is heard, followed by another swoosh and thud. The mob cheers, the King grins wickedly, the Queen nods with indifference. I can do nothing but cry.

 

I have failed. Again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Catelyn


	7. The Woman and her Dreams (Catelyn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers:
> 
> First of all, thank you very much for reading the story, commenting on it, and giving it kudos. It really means a lot to me.
> 
> But I think I owe you all an apology. I feel some of you feel I have been misleading you. I am very sorry for that!
> 
> Please don't be angry at me! I am sorry I am killing all these beloved characters ... As you may have already realized, Bran will not be able to save his family, yet ... I'll be frank so that there are no surprises: in this story Bran will fail a few more times, but he will get it right in the end! I promise! ... The problem is that these visions that he has are not very reliable and easy to read. He just gets a few glimpses here and there and he does not always understand what he sees. Plus, he cannot really control his power to communicate with others. He can only interact successfully with people who would be open to him (people who know him and love him, like his family). He cannot just appear to Joffrey and ask him to spare Ned or Sansa. It took Bran a long time and a great effort to get people who trust him to listen to him, let alone somedy who does not know him or does not care. They will never be open to his influence and will never listen to him (for example Joffrey, Tywin, other soldiers, etc). The idea is that he is going about it the wrong way, but he'll figure it out eventually. I guess the interest lies in finding out what Bran can change and how their lives differ from canon (even if the end result is not necessarily better). I would consider it a collection of "what ifs" for the Starks, where the destination is the same (or similar) but the path is different.
> 
> But this story has a happy ending, I promise! I know it is frustrating to see him fail time and time again, but just bear with me for a few more chapters. He will figure it out and fix it, and we'll get to the happy ending we all want to see :)
> 
> And NO! Even though it may sound a bit sadistic, this story is NOT some kind of dark fantasy of mine (as some reviewer suggested). I love these characters and I hate what I'm doing to them. But what is happening to these characters is really nothing new. This is a saga where people get executed all the time. We have seen our fair share of gruesome deaths (Red Wedding, Shireen, Oberyn, Fat Walda, Joffrey, just to name a few). I am not inflicting extra pain on the characters or being more cruel than what the actual Westeros is like ...
> 
> I am sorry if all the suffering is putting you off ... but there is a happy ending, I promise!
> 
>  
> 
> Note 2:   
> In this chapter the spirit of Bran (our narrator) will be in the same scenes as the real Bran. He will see himself falling from the tower, lying on the bed and then when Bran finally awakes. I hope it's not too confusing ... Also, there's rape in this chapter (implied, not graphic).

**_ 7\. The woman and her dreams. (Catelyn)  _ **

 

 _The things I do for love_ , I hear in my head. An arm shoots out and a boy falls to the ground. Nothing. Blackness. …. It is me, I suddenly realize. I am the boy. I see myself lying on the ground my legs twisted in an impossible angle, bent where there are no joints to bend.

 

It is Ser Rodrik Cassel that finds me. He brings Maester Luwin and my mother rushes along. The Maester inspects my broken body as my mother sobs beside me. She holds my hand but I am unresponsive. “I am not dead” I want to yell at her.

 

They take me to my chambers and Maester Luwin tries to push my bones back into place. He begs my Mother to leave, but she will hear none of it. She does not leave the room. Not that day, not the following one, nor the one that comes after. Not even when my father comes to take her away.

 

“I’ll be fine. Mother” I whisper gently in her ear, but I can’t get through her sobs and wails. My mother does not speak to anyone, does not listen to anyone.

 

I hear her begging father to stay. She’s desperate and I want to hold her hand. I have never seen her so broken. Father kisses her temple and they remain in a tight hug for hours. They look at the body on my bed in silence. Finally my father gets up. He is leaving. They all are. Father, Sansa, Arya, Jon. They come to say goodbye to my sleeping form. I see mother being oblivious to all of this. Her eyes remain glued on the boy on the bed but they look vacant.

 

Days go by and my mother remains at my side. I hear Maester Luwin reassure her that I will awake soon. He regretfully tells her that I may never regain use of my legs again. My mother is unmoved by the news. She has become a statue, an empty vessel for a withering soul.

 

Rickon cries at her feet, Robb asks her for help, Maester Luwin implores her to leave my room. But all their efforts are in vain. She does not eat, she does not sleep. She watches. And she weaves. It’s a praying wheel. Supposedly only a mother can make one for her children when they are ill. She hopes her Gods will heal me.

 

Robb and Maester Luwin try to get her to leave the room once again, but they fail miserably, once again. Suddenly Robb looks worried. There’s a fire, he says. Both my brother and the maester leave but my mother remains in my room. The air grows cold all of a sudden.

 

“You weren’t supposed to be here” a man says slowly walking out of the shadows. He looks filthy and he stinks of waste. He has rotten teeth and greasy dirty hair. He is holding a knife in his hands. “It’s a mercy” he says looking at my body on the bed.

 

No sooner my mother sees the blade than she pushes the man down on the floor. But he gets up in no time and lunges at her. He comes at her with the knife and my mother tries to defend herself. I see blood, a lot of blood. It is on my mother’s hands, arms, clothes, face. He will kill her! I can’t watch this.

 

It is then that I remember my mother is not alone on the room. My wolf is sitting on my bed. I know I can talk to him. He will listen. “Save her” I tell him. “Save my mother.” Summer wastes no time and he springs into action. He jumps at the man and bites his throat savagely. My mother can only stare in shock. She sends a thankful prayer to my wolf who starts to lick the blood off my mother’s hands. She starts smiling timidly and giggling. But her laughter soon turns hysterical. She is out of control by the time Maester Luwin and Robb come to the room. She’s bleeding profusely from her wounds, her clothes are torn and her hair is a mess. Maester Luwin helps her calm down and between him and Cassel they help her to her room. This is the first time my mother has left my room since my accident.

 

I have never seen my mother naked. I have seen my sisters when we used to bathe together, but never a grown woman. I saw a drawing Theon had one day, but the woman in the picture was nothing like my mother. I am drawn to her as my her chambermaid applies a soft wet rag to her wounds and cleans the blood off her body. They wrap her in warm blankets and she finally sleeps. Her vigil by my bed has left a toll on her and she does not wake for the next four days. It is me that keeps vigil by her bed now.

 

When she finally wakes she does not come straight to my room as I expected. She takes a walk around the gardens, but this is no Spring morning stroll. Her wandering brings her to the tower I fell from. She touches the spot where I fell and I see a tear roll down her face. She looks up at the tower and is resolute. She is going up. I walk up the round narrow staircase with her until we reach the room atop the tower. We find nothing. … An image assaults my mind. _A woman with long golden hair on the floor, a man with equally golden hair on top of her._ And I see it: a strand of golden hair in a crease between the stones on the floor. I try to pick it up but my ghostly fingers come up empty.

 

“Look at the floor” I tell my mother. Her eyes roam the room. “Look at the floor” I say again. She shakes her head and sighs.

“I must be going crazy” she smiles mirthlessly. I fear she will start laughing hysterically again. I had never seen my mother like that, and I hope I never see her again. I truly feared for her sanity and her health.

 

My mother shakes her head and sighs. But she does look down. She finds the strand of hair and picks it up. “Golden hair” she whispers. Her face stiffens and her blue eyes grow dark. “Golden hair” she repeats spitefully.

 

I follow her down the staircase and we go back to the castle. She summons Robb, Theon, Maester Luwin and Cassel to a remote part of the yard and she tells them her suspicions. She tells them of a letter she had received from Lysa warning her of the Lannisters. She tells them how she believes the Queen must have been the one on the tower since the hair surely belongs to her. She recalls how the Kingslayer did not go on the hunt with the King and my father and the rest of the men and how he was nowhere to be found for a good part of the day. She believes father should be told. When the men offer to go to King’s Landing or send a raven she swiftly quiets them. She insists on going herself. She says a big party will attract unwanted attention and she does not trust a raven with such message.

 

She comes to my bed later that day. I can see resolution on her face. Her mind is set. But I can’t let her go. If she goes, she’ll never come back. Just like father. Just like my sisters. Just like everyone else.

 

“Mother, stay” I beg softly. I wait in anticipation but I get no reaction from her. “Mother stay, don’t leave” I try again. She gasps and her eyes focus on the body on my bed.

“B-bran?” she asks tentatively.

“Yes mother, it’s me” I smile.

“Oh Gods be good, I must be dreaming. But if I am I do not want to wake.” I try to hold her hand and I feel her fingers give a light squeeze. She whimpers softly in pain and I am reminded of the wounds in her hands. “Bran, my sweetling, is it really you?” she asks the sleeping form on the bed.

“Yes mother” I reply putting a comforting hand on her back.

She leans down and hugs my sleeping form. She is sobbing now and she rocks my body back and forth gently. “I don’t want to leave you sweetling, but I have to go. I have to warn your father.”

“Don’t. Please don’t leave”

“But …” she trails.

“Send Rodrik Cassel instead, or Theon”

“Oh, Bran, my sweet boy. I can’t leave you. I can’t leave you! And I can’t leave Rickon. I have ignored him far too long. And Robb needs me as well” she says sobering up. She kisses my forehead and stays there for the longest time. Her cheek is pressed against my temple and I feel her breath on my face. And she stays there. She lingers on my chest listening to my heartbeat. And I listen to hers until she falls asleep.

 

She is startled when Robb wakes her up. After a mumbled apology she gets up and goes to meet with the same men again. Preparations for her trip south are almost ready but she surprises them with her new resolution. She says Theon should go instead and that she will stay to help Robb. She adds that Rickon needs her and that she cannot abandon them. “As soon as you tell Lord Stark of our discovery I want you to return to Winterfell” she instructs Theon.

 

After Theon and Cassel have left, Robb questions her about her decision.

“It was Bran” she tells a confused Robb. “He begged me to stay”

“But Mother,” Robb starts looking at her as if she has gone mad again “Bran is sleeping”

“I know” she laughs.

“Mother?”

“No, Robb, I haven’t gone mad. He came to me in my dream. He asked me not to leave. He suggested we should send Theon or Cassel instead.”

“But, Mother, you can’t believe-” but Robb is quickly hushed by my mother.

“I believe in many things Robb” she says placing a hand on his cheek. “But mostly I believe in my children”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you stayed. It would have been too dangerous for you to go alone, and I need you with me” Robb smiles back at her.

 

Days go by and the situation is still mostly unchanged. Robb, acting Lord of Winterfell in my father’s absence, takes care of the household business, he makes the necessary appointment, he talks to the Lords and bannermen, he supervises the crops and stables. Maester Luwin is still trying to wake me and find a solution to my presumable useless legs. He prickles and prods an unconscious Bran. I hiss in pain every time he does that, but mostly out of sympathy since I cannot really feel anything and neither can the boy sleeping on my bed. Rickon comes to my room to talk to me and he usually stays and plays on the floor. My mother still keeps vigil by my bed praying next to my sleeping form. But one thing has definitely changed. My mother’s demeanour. She had been eating properly and she has been sleeping on her bed. She pays attention to Rickon and is of great help to Robb, just like she used to do with Father when he was in charge. I’m happy for her.

 

So my plan has worked! She didn’t leave and will not get in trouble. Now it’s just a matter of waiting for Theon and Cassel to reach my father and convince him to come home. Then they will all return and we’ll live as if none of the misfortunes that befell my family had happened or will ever happen. I know it should take about a month or month and a half for Theon to reach my father and for everybody to be back. But I just can’t help it. Everyday I look through the windows in anticipation, hoping to see my father and my sisters returning, or at least a raven carrying the good news. My mother is optimistic, and so is my older brother. And that is enough for me.

 

My family has more reason to rejoice now. The Bran on the bed has finally awaken! My mother is beside herself with joy. And I am happy for her. She deserves this respite. True, I cannot use my legs and have become a cripple. But soon Tyrion Lannister stops by on his way back from the Wall and leaves instructions for a special saddle to be built for me so I can ride. Admittedly, the welcome my mother and brother gave him was fairly cold and he did not miss their resentment. My mother has never been good at hiding her true feelings. Her disdain for all things Lannister was blatantly obvious in the short conversations they had, but I have to give her credit on keeping her emotions at bay on this one. She did behave in a civilized manner towards the Imp and thanked him for the device he left for me.

 

After days of wait, a raven finally arrives. But it is not the message we had been hoping for. Father has been arrested for treason! This quickly sets off a chain of events that I am unable to stop. Robb calls the banners. The Lords are all enraged. They want to march south to free father. Robb has to go, leaving a broken nine-year-old boy as acting Lord of Winterfell.

 

My mother helps me with everything, from the most intimate details of my personal hygiene to the most complicated issues of trying to be a good Lord. This Bran is enjoying a luxury I was denied: the tender loving care of my mother when I really needed it. He does not seem so sullen and miserable as I was. And my mother is safe, away from the war, away from the people that would mean her harm, and far from making decisions that would lead her to a grim fate. It seems I have truly have taken steps in the right direction to ensure the well-being of my family!

 

We keep waiting for news but none arrive. I can feel my mother’s worry seeping through her well constructed walls. She tries to hide it from everyone, but as I said, she was never good at hiding her emotions. She is worried about father in a cell, about my sisters being prisoners in King’s Landing, about Robb marching to war, about Theon of whom we haven’t heard anything, and even about Jon. In a way I think she wishes Jon could be with Robb (maybe not so much for Jon’s sake but for Robb’s).

 

A raven has arrived. Maester Luwin looks distressed as he walks with my mother. He gives her the parchment and waits for her reaction. When I see her break down in tears and collapse on the floor I don’t need to read the message to know what it says. My father has been executed. She wants to write to Robb, but she does not know where he is. Maester Luwin notes that Jon should be notified and I am surprised when she decides to pen the letter herself.

 

Not long afterwards we receive a message from Robb. Apparently Theon, who has joined my brother’s camp now, was able to meet with my father and relay our suspicions to him. But that is inconsequential now, my mother reflects aloud. Robb says that after father’s murder his bannermen named him King in the North. They are in Riverrun with my mother’s family. I look at my mother and see a mixture of pride and apprehension on her face: pride that my brother has done so well, but fear that this war will have far reaching consequences and tear the family apart, more that it already has. With Robb being in Riverrun communication is more fluid. My brother keeps my mother abreast of his plans and actions and my mother counsels him. He tells her of how he had to negotiate with the Freys (the Freys have lent their support but in return both him and Arya will have to marry a member of their family), and how they have lifted the siege in Riverrun.

 

There are other news, however. My grandfather is not doing so well. Old age has crept up viciously on him and he is bed-ridden. Not long after that we get another raven notifying us of his death. My mother cries alone when she thinks nobody is watching. But I am. I want to comfort her, but there is not much I can do in this incorporeal form. So I just let her cry on my shoulder. She goes to her Sept very often and I hear her pray. She lights a candle to the Father to keep vigil on my father’s and my grandfather’s soul, another to the Maiden for my sisters, the Warrior for Robb, the Smith for me, the Mother for Rickon, and the Crone for herself asking for wisdom and foresight to face whatever the Gods decide to throw at us.

 

Robb writes again. They have captured the Kingslayer in battle. This news is well received in Winterfell. Apparently Robb is doing very well in his campaign and winning most battles. He has decided to send Theon to Pyke so that he can rally the Ironborn to his side. My mother is not very convinced about this and advices Robb against it. She believes that, while Theon may be trusted, Balon Greyjoy may not.

 

Another raven, another victory for my brother. At this rate Robb will reach King’s Landing and have the Lannisters on their knees in no time! My plan of not letting mother leave Winterfell has actually worked! Soon, all my family will be home … well, _minus father_ , I add belatedly.

 

There is also news of Robb falling in love and marrying a foreign girl. My mother frowns at this “The Freys won’t be pleased at this slight.” My brother keeps gaining allies, but there is no news of the Iron born yet. My mother worries about this too. “I warned him not to rely on Balon Greyjoy” she reflects ruefully.

 

One day we see riders approaching. Who could it be? We can’t see the banners, and when we finally do it is too late. A golden Kraken on a black field. An army of Iron men is quickly approaching the gates, being led by none other than Theon Greyjoy himself! They surround Winterfell and yell for us to yield the castle. I know that with Robb and most of the men having ridden south to war, the castle is seriously undermanned, so fighting is out of the question. And Theon probably knows this too. Winterfell is not prepared for a long-term siege, either. Maester Luwin wastes no time sending ravens to Robb and other castles in the North, but the ravens are quickly shot down with arrows. Winterfell is defenceless and isolated, surrounded by an army.

 

Seeing no way out, my mother talks to Theon and surrenders the castle. She makes him promise he will not harm any one.

“Please, Theon, for the love you once bore us, I beg of you, do not hurt my children. We will surrender peacefully and grant you control over Wintrfell. I just ask you to spare the people within our walls.”

“I never bore you any love!” he replies coldly. “Winterfell is mine by conquest, not because some haughty bitch decided to give it to me. It is mine to do as I please.” And to make his intentions clear he grabbed a servant boy and slit his throat with a knife. I hear gasps of horror from the people gathered in the yard. The message has been received.

 

“As of this day” he started addressing the crowd “you will answer to me, Theon Greyjoy, Prince of Winterfell. You will cut down and burn your Stark banners and we will hang the Greyjoy Kraken sigil from the towers and battlements. Any man, woman or child who dares contradict me or my men will suffer the Iron Wrath” he finished and spat on the dead body of the poor servant boy to give meaning to his words.

 

Then he walks over to my mother and grabs her forcefully by the hair. He whispers something in her ear but I cannot hear what he says. But I do see my mother’s mouth open and her eyes grow wide in fear. He then punches her in the stomach and pushes her to the ground. She doubles in pain and gasps for air. Maester Luwin goes to her and helps her up. Their eyes find each other and my mother just shakes her head. Whatever silent communication they had I am not privy to.

 

By nightfall, the Kraken soldiers have taken complete control of Winterfell. Theon has locked Bran and Rickon in a room and says they will never be allowed to leave. Rickon is crying and I see my corporeal self trying to console my little brother. I go to check on my mother to find her in a heated argument with Theon. She tells him she will do anything but to please leave her children alone.

 

“Of course you will do anything” he replies smugly. “Remember what I told you in the yard?”

My mother nods. She whispers two words. I had heard these words before. Maester Luwin has been teaching Bran and Rickon about the different houses, their sigils, their history and their habits. I remember shuddering when Maester Luwin explained what the Ironmen did to women. _Salt wife._ I know what Theon intends to do with my mother and I won’t be able to stop him. I know she won’t appreciate me being here and witnessing it. With a heavy heart, I decide to walk away.

 

When I see her the following morning she has bruises all over her face and her hair is a mess. Her eyes are puffed and I know she has been crying. Theon keeps her locked in her own room and comes back to her every night. She is unable to see her children and she daily begs Theon to let her out, to let her go see her children. But every time he laughs in her face, punches her or pulls her hair painfully. It is not knowing anything about her children that is slowly killing her, even worse than whatever Theon does to her at night.

 

I can’t see my mother like this. She is a shell of the woman she was before. I have to save her. I have to get her out. I know a way out of her room, I have used it myself many times: through the window and climbing down the wall. I know she won’t listen, so I wait until she is half asleep. Maybe if she thinks she is dreaming she’ll listen.

 

“Go to the window” I tell her. “Climb down” She opens her eyes and looks around the room. “There is a ledge right below your window. Climb down to that ledge and there’s a hole on the wall to the left, very small, but big enough for you to put your foot in. From there you jump down to the window on the first floor and then you jump to the ground. You can do it mother, I know.”

She looks up now and she’s fully awake. “Bran?”

“Yes, mother, it’s me.”

“Am I dreaming?”

“Yes” I lie. “But you have listened to me in your dreams before and it has worked”

“I cannot escape. That will only make Theon angry” she tries to reason.

“Only if you get caught” I challenge back.

“We should wait for Robb. By now he must know about us and has probably sent an army to help.”

“I don’t think so, Mother. You have to go. You’ll die if you don’t!” I almost beg her now.

“No, if I get caught he will …” she trails

“Kill you, yes. But you cannot keep going like this”

“It is not me I am worried about. I cannot leave you and your brother alone. Who knows what he will do to you?”

“You have to go Mother. This is killing you! If you escape, maybe you can call for help.”

 

She seems confused, but she seems to be considering it. I see her walk to the window and I cheer in anticipation. She opens the window and climbs out. It is a long way down and I can sense her fear. I egg her on and she steps out on to the ledge. She eases her way down and puts her foot in the hole, just like I had said. She’s almost there! Suddenly she yells in pain and I see her fall down. She lands on the ground and I see her stifle a cry. Her elbow is bent at an odd angle and she has an arrow in her leg. She stands and comes face to face with a guard holding a bow. The guard grabs her by the hair and pushes her to the ground again.

 

“Wait till I tell master Theon how his bitch tried to escape” he hisses maliciously.

 

My mother is brought to Theon, who is sitting in my father’s chair in his solar.

“How dare you usurp my husband’s place?”

“Oh, do you mean the chair? I believe I have usurped his place in more ways than one, haven’t I?” he slurs in her ear. “I gave you a choice. You took it. Now you will pay the consequences.”

 

I don’t know what he is talking about, but my mother obviously does. “Just let me see my children one last time” she begs, but her words are ignored. A hard punch in the stomach and a fist in the face is all the reply she receives.

 

He marches her to the yard and makes her guards hold her semi-limp body upright. Her hands are tied behind her back and I can see her wince in pain. Her elbow juts out to her side and the arrow in her leg is bleeding profusely. He summons the people to the yard and starts going on about how he is the rightful lord of Winterfell and how people had better obey him or suffer the consequences.

 

“Nobody disobeys the Prince of Winterfell” he says before he brings his knife to my mother’s throat and kisses her lips. He keeps his lips on hers as the blade disappears inside her throat.

 

She gasps for air a few times and her blood flows gurgling down onto the ground below. My mother’s body convulses a couple of times. Then she stops moving. She stops breathing. She stops bleeding. … She is gone.

 

It is all my fault! It is all my fault! She followed my advice and suffered horribly.

I have failed miserably.

I have failed again.

 

I turn around and leave. I cannot stay here.

 

I look up into the sky and then my eyes fall on the line at the horizon. I see a cloud of dust quickly approaching. Horses. And they carry banners. With the direwolf sigil. My brother has indeed sent an army to rescue Winterfell. My mother was right …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Theon
> 
> Note: I know I made Theon a bit OOC. I don't think Theon would ever do something like this. In canon, when he attacked Winterfell, he always had mixed feelings about it and he regretted many things he did. Plus, he never hurt Bran and Rickon (I don't think he would treat Catelyn this way). He'll get his redemption in the next chapter :)
> 
> As for what Theon did to Catelyn, again, it is not something that would not happen or has not happened in canon. One of the scenes that hit me as I was reading the books was when the Ironborn attacked those islands in the southwest coast and what they did to the Ladies of the house (the mother and the girls). It was atrocious! And, in fact, when you think about it, all the high born lords and ladies are essentially raped when they get married. Lowborns can marry for love, but higborns marry for political reasons. They are forced to marry someone they don't love (and in some cases haven't even met before), and have to sleep with them. Catelyn and Ned were extremely lucky they ended up truly loving each other, but other people were not as lucky. I think of Lysa having to sleep with an old man like Jon Arryn (though in his defence, I'm sure he was a gentleman), or Cersei. Cersei had to endure Robert coming to her bed half drunk and stinking of other women and had to do whatever it was he asked and whenever he asked. And the men were not very fortunate either. ... So, as sorry as I am for what I made Theon do to Catelyn, I don't think it's something farfetched in that horrible world they lived in... And please, do not for one second think that I believe this is ok or acceptable! I do not condone rape of any kind (male or female, forced marriage, etc). Thanks.


	8. The Young Man and his Mission (Theon)

**_ 8\. The young man and his mission. (Theon) _ **

 

After what he did to us I should let him rot. But I can’t. I still have fond memories of him. The fate that awaits him at the hands of Bolton, he does not deserve. Maybe if I can stop Theon from betraying my brother things will change for the best.

.

.

.

I follow Theon through my brother’s campaign in the war. I see him conversing with Robb. He is trying to convince my brother to let him go to Pyke to rally his father’s men to their cause. If Robb can add the Greyjoy men to his ranks, his chances will definitely increase tenfold. He’ll have more men, and most importantly, ships.

 

It is not long afterwards that I find myself accompanying Theon as he rides west to the coast and boards a ship bound for the Iron Islands. I have never been to the Iron Islands. Truth be told, I have barely been outside Winterfell. Westeros is a vast continent and the places I have visited can be counted with the fingers of my hand. But I am a well learned boy, especially for my age. I have read about the Iron Islands and the Ironborn; not a place I fathomed myself ever visiting, and not the kind of people I would want to mingle with. But, here we go … I have a mission to accomplish.

 

The Iron Islands are a dreadful place. Steep rocks that lead straight onto the merciless water below. The waves crash into the shore with such vehemence that any poor soul who had the misfortune of having a misstep on these cliffs would sure be carried away by the current, that is, if they are unlucky enough not to be granted a quick death by the fall itself.

 

The people are as unwelcoming as the place. Gruff rude voices welcome Theon onto the quay and lead him to the castle. The men and women we come across on our way do not even lift their eyes to greet Theon. Do they not know this is the rightful heir to the Iron Islands? Their future liege lord? Well, whether they know or not is inconsequential. I find this out as soon as we step into the castle. The minute we meet Balon Greyjoy I realize Theon will never inherit his titles. Lord Greyjoy already has another heir he trusts implicitly: Theon’s sister.

 

Neither Balon Greyjoy nor his daughter are very impressed by Theon. They mock his speech, his clothes, his appearance, in short, they mock what he has become. A greeenlander they call him, no longer an islander. And these are the people Theon wants to rally to my brother’s cause? I highly doubt they will accept …

 

“And why would I bend the knee to a wolf boy when I can be King myself?” Balon roars from his high chair.

“If you join us, Father, we will have an unbeatable army. With Robb’s men and your ships we can-” Theon started, but was abruptly stopped by his father.

“Join us?” he spat. “Who’s side are you on? Who are you? A wolf or a kraken?”

“A Kraken, father. I never ceased to be so.”

“Then prove it” Balon Greyjoy challenged.

“What would you have me do, father?” he asked apprehensively.

“Do what the Iron men have always done. The wolves are in the south. The north is defenceless. We’ll take it.” After a few seconds in which Theon was at a loss for words, his father pressed on. “I thought you said you were a kraken” he shook his head with disdain.

“Aye, father. I am” Theon replied. “What is dead may never die!” he claimed thumping his chest.

“But rises again harder and stronger!” both Theon’s sister and father finished for him.

 

I follow Theon and hear his conversation with his sister. Asha is her name. She seems decent. She talks about their mother and how the poor woman has suffered. To have her oldest sons killed and the youngest one kidnapped must surely take a toll on a mother. My heart goes to my own mother and how she has suffered. Asha seems to be kind and seems to have a soft spot for Theon, her Little Brother, as she calls him. She reminds me of Arya. I guess this is what Arya would like to become when she grows up: a warrior woman clad in armour and armed like a knight.

 

Asha ushers Theon to his room and they start making plans on how to best attack the North. Asha mentions how most of the Northern Lords and their men have followed Robb south in his war campaign and that most of the towns and castles are undermanned. She mentions different names of Houses and gives, what seem to be, accurate numbers. For an island they are surely very well informed. She suggests raiding the western shore and slowly making their way inland until they reach Winterfell. I am hoping Theon will refuse, but to my utter dismay he agrees.

 

Oh, no! This has backfired faster than I had anticipated! I have to stop Theon from betraying us! I wait until Asha leaves and try to talk to him.

 

“Theon, do not do this” I say. Nothing. “Theon, do not do this” I repeat. Nothing. He starts taking off his clothes and putting on his night clothes. “Theon, do not do this”

“Who’s there?” he asks tentatively.

“It’s me, Bran. I am here to help you.”

“Are .. are you a .. a ghost?” he stutters.

“No, not exactly. But I am me. I am Bran and I want to help you.”

“Leave! Go away! You are not here!”

“Yes, Theon” I say calmly. “I am here”

“What do you want?” he cries in fear.

“I want to help you” I reply gently.

“How can you help me?”

“You are about to make a decision that you will surely regret.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do not betray my brother. Do not betray us. You were a ward, but my family took you in. My brother considers you a brother. I consider you a brother.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Leave. Go back to Robb’s camp and warn him of your father’s intentions”

“I cannot betray my father!”

“He does not love you Theon, I’m sorry. He does not care for you.” I see his eyes getting misty and I try to go to him. I place a comforting hand on his back.

“You’re right. He doesn’t. What am I doing? Gods! What should I do?”

“Leave. Go back to Robb” I insist softly.

 

He looks around the room. He puts his clothes back on and makes for the door. Is he leaving Pyke? Have I succeeded? I can’t seem to read his mind.

 

I follow him as he makes his way around the castle. He goes to a room I had not seen before. He opens a door and the heat that emanates from a fireplace hits us with force. The room is warm and cozy. Its only occupant is a woman in a rocking chair. She looks old. Her body is bent forwards, her skin is wrinkled and her hair is gray.

 

“Mother?” he softly calls out.

“Balon, is that you?” she asks in a feeble voice.

“No, mother. It’s me Theon.” He walks over to the woman and kneels next to her. He grabs her hand and kisses it tenderly.

“Balon, where are our sons?”

“Mother, I am here. I’m Theon, your son”

“Theon” she repeats pensively rocking slowly in her chair. “Theon. Yes, I had a son named Theon. But they took him away. Balon, do you know where our sons are?”

“Mother?” he calls for her sweetly. But her eyes are lost in the fire. I fear her mind is lost, as well. I suppose Theon has come to the same conclusion. He kisses her temple and leaves the room. When we leave, the woman keeps muttering unintelligible words as she rocks back and forth in her chair.

 

I follow Theon to the beach. He walks into the water and cries. He whispers in a steady voice “What is dead may never die” and goes underwater. I start fretting when he takes a very long time to resurface. When he finally does he thumps his chest and yells into the dark sky “But rises again harder and stronger! I was a timid creature, neither a boy nor a man. I am reborn now. I am stronger. And I know what I am. I may not be a Stark by birth, but I am a Stark by choice!”

 

With decisive steps, he walks back onto the sand. He makes his way to the port and gets onto a small row boat. I smile and get on the boat with him. I have succeeded! We’re going home!

 

It took us most of the night to row our way back to the mainland. There he walked to the nearest town and he purchased a horse. I feel extremely glad and relieved when we reach Robb’s camp. And it is with great pleasure that I hear Theon tell my brother, my mother and the rest of the men of Balon’s plans. My brother commends Theon on his loyalty and rewards him by naming him a Lord. He is promised his own castle when the war is done. Even my mother smiles gratefully at him. Robb makes previsions for a possible Ironborn attack and sends men to fortify the coastal towns.

 

Yes! I have succeeded!

 

Weeks go by and the war goes on. More battles that Robb’s army wins and more battles in which Theon performs admirably. I suppose having the utmost trust of the King in the North is a boost to his confidence.

 

But news arrive one day of developments in the North. The Ironborn have indeed invaded. Theon suggests he should be the one to go fight them since he is well versed in Iron born strategy and he has a good relationship with his sister. “I can parlay with her” he says.

 

Other Northern Lords also volunteer to join Theon or to send some of their men. Lord Bolton even offers to send his bastard son. “He is currently at the Dreadfort, but he can join in the efforts to rid our lands of the Ironborn. His name is Ramsay Snow, but if he succeeds in aiding your cause I shall give him the name of Bolton”

 

After the council Theon stays conversing with Robb.

“So, big mission up ahead” Theon says.

“And you’ll be leading it” my brother smiles back at him.

“Aye” Theon replies proudly.

“But I have another mission for you. Bolton’s son, the bastard, what do you know about him?”

“Nothing, your Grace”

“You don’t need to call me Your Grace when we are alone. You are my brother, Theon Greyjoy”

“Yes, brother” he smiles back at Robb.

“Well, back to the bastard of Bolton. I have been getting strange reports from the North.”

“Reports? Of what?”

“Strange disappearances, mainly of young girls. Disfigured bodies found in the countryside. Flaying.”

“But flaying has been outlawed!”

“Apparently somebody did not get the raven. The name of Ramsay Snow has come up in those reports. I want you to investigate. Get close to him. See what you can find out”

“I will Robb, I will.”

“Well, good luck. You’d better get a goodnight’s sleep. You leave tomorrow at first light.”

 

So it is that I find myself riding North again with Theon. We have an army of three thousand men and more men join us on the way to Seagard and the Flint. We have men from the Rills, the Barrowlands and the Stony shore. Ramsay and his men join us on the way to the Flint Cliffs. He is an odd character to say the least. He scares me. His is a soft spoken young man with good and polite manners, but there is something to his eyes that terrifies me. I think Theon senses something as well.

 

We get word that the Ironborn army is gathered at Flint’s Finger. We surround the town and when we finally face the Ironmen, our army doubles theirs. The Ironborn, however, do not seem deterred by our larger numbers. They attack, but are very disorganized at doing so. “They are not a proper army, but reavers and scavengers. They know how to fight, but they don’t know how to win a battle” Lord Cerwin says. And he is right.

 

The fight is over in no time and the Ironborn are offered the chance to surrender.

“They say their leader is a woman” Lord Mallister says.

“Let me go talk to her” Ramsay suggests with a glint in his eyes.

“No, I’ll go” Theon quickly steps in. “She is my sister. Besides, I’m the one in charge of this mission.”

 

Theon talks to his sister and convinces her to leave. He promises her remaining men will not be harmed and that there will be no retaliation against the Iron Islands if they leave now and vow never to return. They talk for a while and finally an agreement is reached. It is done. Theon has saved the North! I guess a great part of that credit should go to me, not that anyone will ever know …

 

As we get ready to go back South, Ramsay approaches Theon and they start walking.

“Are you going to go back to Robb’s camp?” Ramsay asks.

“Yes, my mission here is done” Theon replies.

“Don’t you want to stop by Winterfell? It’s a only short detour” he suggests.

“Robb is awaiting my news”

“Which any of your men could relay” he finishes. “I hear your Bran is awake. Don’t you want to see him? And little Rickon?”

“I suppose I could” Theon finally acquiesces.

 

I don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, I want him to go back to Robb. But on the other, this could be a good way to find out what has been going on in Robb’s absence. To see if there is any grain of truth to these strange reports Robb has been getting. I egg him on.

“Do it Theon” I say. “Go to Winterfell”

Theon shakes his head and looks at Ramsay. He then looks around and his eyes fall on Ramsay again. “Did you just say anything?” he asks the bastard.

“No” Ramsay replies shaking his head.

“Well, then, I’ll go. I’ll stop by Winterfell before I meet with Robb. I’m sure he will appreciate to have news from home.”

 

Yes! I cheer. Now we will be able to see if this Ramsay has been up to something. It takes us a week to arrive at Winterfell and through Theon’s long conversations with Ramsay I get no vibe of any evil actions on his part. He looks suspicious, but that may be just my preconceived ideas because of what Robb had said. He is indeed an odd character, but he does seem kind and friendly.

 

I finally see the walls of my beloved House. Everything is as we left it. We make our way through the gates and are welcome by Maester Luwin and myself. It feels strange to see myself propped on Hodor’s shoulders. This is a happy moment for everyone, I must say. Maester Luwin and myself seem happy to be receiving first hand accounts of the fight against the Ironborn and Robb’s campaign in the Riverlands, and Theon seems happy to learn about developments in Winterfell.

 

But everything changes within seconds. Theon is clubbed in the head by Ramsay, and his men immediately pull out their swords. They subdue Maester Luwin and Rodrick Cassel with hardly any trouble and immediately gain control of Winterfell. Ramsay declares himself Warden of the North. This was his plan all along! He just used Theon to get through the gates without a hinge. Making sure all the able men are locked up and that his own men are in control, he leaves Winterfell in the hands of one of his lieutenants and he takes Theon with him to the Dreadfort.

 

What I witness there are the most heinous and vilest crimes. I see the bodies of young girls disfigured by dogs. I see dead men hanging from posts with their skin flayed off. I see servant boys being whipped within an inch of their lives. And I see a young man tied to a post in the dungeon. I don’t want to get near. I know who this man is.

 

Ramsay Bolton has taken Theon and has made him into his little play thing. Whenever he feels like it, he visits him in the dungeons and takes a little bit of Theon at a time: a finger, a toe, or a bit of skin. He even cuts off his penis one day. He is taking his soul bit by bit. And I am helpless to stop it! Theon is dying a slow agonizing painful death! And all because of my curiosity to see if what Ramsay was doing was true. Well, now I know. And Theon is paying the price.

 

I can’t watch this! I cannot let Theon suffer like this. I need to get him out, but I see no way out. I can’t save him and he cannot escape. There is only one escape of this torture, one way out of this hell. I just need to find someone who will do it.

 

Lucan. He is an old man who works at the stables. He has seen his fare share of crimes and is tired of what Ramsay does to his victims. I saw him helping a girl escape once. Ramsay was chasing her with his dogs in the forest. He swiftly got on his horse, picked up the girl and took her to the outskirts of the nearest town. He then quickly returned to the Dreadfort and nobody ever knew he had been out. Maybe if I can reach him … He won’t be able to get Theon out of the dungeons; that would be too obvious and too risky. But he can deliver him from this hell.

 

“Theon” I whisper in Lucan’s ears. “Theon is innocent, just like the girl in the forest. He needs your help, just like the girl”

“Who’s there?”

“Just somebody who wants to make things right” I reply.

“Were you sent by the Gods?”

“Yes” I lie. Or maybe it is not a lie. At this point I don’t really know. “Help him. Help Theon. Put an end to his suffering.”

 

With tears in my eyes I see Lucan one night sneaking into the dungeons with a knife in his hands.

“It’s for the best” I whisper to a whimpering Theon. “You’ll be alright” I say holding his hand. I feel his hands give a slight squeeze and he breathes out my name. “Yes” I say.

“No” replies Lucan. “But this is for your own good. Goodbye my friend. May the Gods spare you any more suffering.” Lucan plunges the knife into Theon’s chest and turns it to find his heart.

 

Giving a light squeeze to my hand before he closes his eyes he mutters a feeble “Goodbye Bran”.

 

I have failed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one more person Bran could try and save.   
> Next: Jon
> 
> This was actually one of my favourite chapters. I love gving Theon some sort of redemption since I don't think he is a bad guy. He did what he did out of low self-esteem and insecurity. He may have been very boisterous and seemed very sure of himself, but deep inside he always felt the need to be accepted. So to please his father and win his favour he did what he did in Winterfell, but he always had second thoughts about it and regretted much of what he did. Plus he made sure not to hurt Bran and Rickon ... well, at least this is how I see him ...
> 
> Thanks:)


	9. The Man on the Ice (Jon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, thanks a lot to those who are still reading :) 
> 
> I know it's frustrating and irritating to see Bran fail time and again, but we're getting close to the end now.

**_ 9\. The man on the ice. (Jon) _ **

 

I have tried to help my family. The Gods know I have tried. But maybe I have been going about it the wrong way. Maybe I’m looking in the wrong direction. All my family went south. All but one. Maybe if I can get to him … I know exactly where he went….

.

.

I see the riders as they head North on to Castle Black. There’s my uncle Benjen. I can also see the Imp. And of course, my brother Jon, well _half-brother_ as my mother never ceases to remind me; oh, but he _is of my blood_ , as my father always says. I don’t understand what the big deal is. He either is my brother or not. What’s all this business about _halves_ and _blood_? I wish my parents would just talk about Jon without going on in riddles.

 

It is a long way to Castle Black, and it gets more difficult the further up North we ride. The dense forests around Winterfell give way to frozen moors of the Gift. The magnificent Kingsroad that leads to Winterfell becomes nothing but a simple country path. It gets colder and windier the further away we ride from home.

 

Finally, there it is. The Wall. It is even more impressive in person, so white, so immense, so high, so magnificent. And I presume that little back spot at the bottom would be Castle Black. This is where the fabled Brothers of the Night Watch reside: brave honorable knights who face insurmountable challenges and formidable foes beyond the Wall - a Wall that was built by Brandon the Builder, my namesake and a proper Stark, over a millennia ago and still stands defending our lands from creatures that escape the realm of imagination. Or so says Old Nan whenever she tells us stories …

 

Yet, what I find when we go through the gates is nothing like what I had imagined. Castle Black is no more than a series of run down wooden structures, half of which are in serious need of repair. The brave honorable knights I had often dreamed of are nothing but a bunch of dirty and smelly thugs, most of whom are missing teeth and talk as if they have never had a Maester in their castles. What kind of castles do they come from? The majority can barely hold a sword, let alone fight the proper way. Are they really knights? My Uncle Benjen is better than them. Jon is better than them. … To say that I am disappointed would be putting it mildly.

 

And my disappointment is even greater when I find out exactly what kind of men come here: traitors, criminals, rapers and thieves who have chosen the Night Watch over execution or prison; second sons who have nothing to inherit; disowned men or just runways and vagrants. Does my father know what this place is like? Why did he allow Jon to come here? My Uncle Benjen certainly knows. How can he let Jon join these men?

 

Jon tries to make a home for himself at Castle Black, but he is having trouble making friends. Only a handful of men take him seriously and talk to him. The others make fun of him or simply resent him because he comes for a noble family, even if he is a bastard. He does not look happy here. I need to get Jon out of this place! Maybe I can get him to leave and go back home.

 

“Do not swear your oath to the Night Watch” I whisper in my brother’s ear. He does not hear me. I try again, and again, but it’s all for naught. He goes with his new friends to the heart tree to say the words.

 

“Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."

 

He looks proud of himself. He feels like a man who has a destiny to fulfill, something he had never felt back home. Should I take this away from him? I hate to sound selfish, but if he stays here, all my family will die. I need to make sure he goes back home. He will be safer if he returns.

 

But it’s too late now. He has sworn his vow and he has become a Sworn Bother of the Night Watch. He has been named a steward. He trains and he works, and he improves daily. The Lord Commander has said so (even if not to his face, but I can hear him). He has made friends, too: Samwell Tarly, Pypar, Grenn, Edd Tollet. And he even enjoys the company of his wolf… I fear Jon has made a life for himself here …

 

A raven has come. The King is dead and my father has been arrested in King’s Landing. Jon has become the laughing stock of Castle Black. Thorne taunts him: “Not only a bastard, but a traitor’s bastard.” Things only get worse when word of Father’s execution reaches the Wall. Commander Mormont is very sympathetic when he relays the news, but I can see that Jon is devastated. This is my chance!

 

“Jon, go home” I whisper in his ear. Ghost sees me and starts howling. “Jon go home” I repeat hoping to take advantage of Jon’s confusion caused by Ghost’s antics. Apparently it has worked!! I don’t know if he has actually heard me or if it is because of Ghost, but he has made up his mind. He is leaving!! We’re going to join Robb and the rest of my family!!

 

Of course, I was not counting on his friends standing up for him. Jon makes his escape in the night, but they chase us through the woods and catch up to us. I can see they truly care for Jon. In the end he decides to stay, but I cannot fault him.

 

The nights are long and dark at Castle Black. It is night when Jon goes to sleep, and it is still night when he gets up. But tonight feels different for some reason, Ghost feels it too. Jon is suddenly awaken by a loud thud and a clang of metal. There is someone in his cabin! A man, and by the looks of it a fellow Brother. But he looks different. He seems stiff and his movements are awkward. He is heading straight for the Lord Commander’s room. As his steward, Jon feels the need to save him. He quickly goes for his sword and faces the intruder. The man has difficulty controlling his own body and his movements are forced. Jon has no trouble thrusting his sword through the man’s chest. Yeah!! I cheer for Jon. … But wait, the man is not dead. He is moving. He is on his feet again and lunging at Jon!

 

“Jon, be careful!” I yell. I think he heard me because he quickly turns around and ducks before the man can get a hold of him. Jon quickly grabs the lantern from the Lord Commander’s hands and tosses it at the man. He catches fire and immediately collapses to the ground. He is dead, isn’t he? Please Gods, let him be dead.

 

“A white walker” Samuel Tarly explains to his companions later that morning. I like this Samuel. He may not be very brave or very strong, nor very skilled as a fighter, but he is very well read. I have noticed he spends hours at the library and speaking to the Maester. His knowledge might come in handy one day. The way he talks about these creatures reminds me of Old Nan. He says that when they wake, we all die. I truly hope he is wrong, for this one was definitely awake before Jon killed him – for the second time!

 

The men are antsy now. They are restless and afraid. There is talk of white walkers, of mysterious occurrences, of a grim fate that awaits those who fall prey to these creatures. They keep talking about missing rangers and how this man Jon killed had been one of them, that is, before he changed. I wonder about my uncle Benjen. He has indeed disappeared and we haven’t heard of him since.

 

A decision has been reached. The men of the Night Watch are going beyond the Wall now to find out what is happening. I am afraid to go with them, but if Jon goes, I go. I know my fear is irrational since nothing can really happen to me in this form, but still, going beyond the Wall feels like a scary prospect to me. I can hear all of Old Nan’s stories in my head, their creatures lurking beyond the safety of my room waiting for the opportunity to attack me: walking dead, giants, wargs, toadmen, flying wolves. These creatures do not exist. Do they? This man was dead. Jon killed it, but then it rose again. These creatures, they do exist!

 

We are going to find Mance Rayder, a former member of the Night Watch who has befriended the wildlings and is now their king. The King beyond the Wall, they call him. Jon is finally getting his wish to join the men on a mission. I wish he had remained a steward at castle Black. I fear for Jon now.

 

The march is long and arduous: miles and miles of endless ice, steep high peaks, snow-covered mountains concealing ragged and uneven rocks. The men are cold and tired. But the effort bears fruit at last; we finally spot them. There, far away, is an orange spec in the distance. Fire. And in this place that can only mean one thing: a camp. One of the rangers, his name is Qhorin something, suggests going with a small party to try and surprise them. I breathe a sigh of relief; Jon is a mere steward, not a ranger – he won’t go.

 

“I volunteer to go” Jon proclaims. _Of course he would say that._ I roll my eyes at him, Jon, what are you doing? You’re supposed to go back home, not go further up into this frozen North. How can I keep you safe when you volunteer for these dangerous missions?

 

So I follow Jon and this group of rangers deep into wildling territory. It is not long before we arrive at their camp. Yet, to our surprise, only one wildling is there and he is very easy to capture. She! She is very easy to capture. The wildling is a woman! She has long red hair, like Sansa’s, but she is a very strong and wild, like Arya, and she is brave and courageous, like mother. Qhorin means to kill her, but Jon refuses. _Why Jon?_ She’s just a wildling! Old Nan has always said that the wildlings are not to be trusted, that they are of a different sort and that they have strange customs.

 

“Kill her Jon” I whisper to his ear. But he does not. Qhorin and his men continue on their way while Jon remains with his captive. He refused to kill her so she has become his responsibility apparently. Big mistake, Jon, now he is all alone.

 

Soon, the tables are turned and when more wildlings appear Jon becomes their captive. I see Jon struggle to take step after step with his hands tied behind his back while being pulled with a rope tied to his neck. The wildlings are not kind and they mock him for being not only “Crow” but a “Bastard crow”. Poor Jon, he thought that by leaving Winterfell and joining the Night Watch he would leave the status of bastard behind, but it seems to be a stain that follows him wherever he goes.

 

I cannot hide my surprise when we meet with another group of wildlings and they bring forward their prisoner: none other than Qhorin himself. He says that when Jon did not return, they went back for him and were attacked. The rest of the men died trying to get back to Jon. I can see the guilt and regret in Jon’s eyes. Those men died because of him.

 

Qhorin tells Jon he should try to infiltrate the wildlings, to befriend them to see what information he can get. Does he truly want Jon to become a spy? Call me coward, but wouldn’t it be better if they both returned to Castle Black? I want Jon to be safe. He won’t be safe if he’s with the wildlings.

 

Suddenly, as we come into a clearing in the forest, the wildlings pit Jon up against Qhorin and make them fight. Jon refuses to kill Qhorin, but the ranger tells him to do it. It’s the only way to make the wildlings believe he has turned. If Jon really wants to infiltrate the wildlings, he will have to kill Qhorin! They start fighting, thrusting, blocking, ducking, and rolling in the ground. They don’t realize how far they have strayed from their wildling audience. Jon manages to get the upper hand and has Qhorin kneeling on the ice, his sword resting on the ranger’s neck.

 

“Do it” Qhorin whispers with an imperceptible nod. “Do your duty”

“No, Jon, don’t do it!” I quickly tell him. Jon looks at his sword and frowns. “Don’t kill him” I say again. He looks at the sky and then looks back questioningly at Qhorin. This is my chance! He can hear me! “Jon, it’s Bran. Listen to me. Do not kill Qhorin. Grab your swords and escape together. If you start running now you’ll get a good head start. Return to castle Black!”

“B-bran?” he whispers into the cold air.

“Yes, it’s me. Please heed my advice. Run away together and return to Castle Black” Jon looks up to the sky in confusion. I think I am getting through to him.

“Come on boy! Do your duty!” Qhorin’s stern voice breaks the trance. “Just be quick about it! Get the information we need and then return to Castle Black!”

“No!” I shout at him. It seems to be a battle between Qhorin and me. Jon looks confused and stays frozen for a few seconds. He finally pulls back his sword and extends his hand to Qhorin.

“If we run now we’ll get a good head start” Jon tells Qhorin quietly.

 

Yes!! I cheer inwardly. They are escaping! They run through the boulders and into the frozen woods. They decide not to make a straight line into Castle Black in case they are followed. They walk for days on end trying to lose their pursuers. They do not light fires and they do not leave tracks.

 

It is not long until they find other tracks on the ice. They look recent and they conclude it must be the rest of the Brothers who had made their way to Castle Black. We follow the tracks until we get to a ravine. There is no way back now, the jump is too high and returning the way they came is out of the question. Unfortunately, someone else makes the decision for them.

 

Two lone figures approach them from the side. They are tall and dressed in thick furs. They look just like the wildlings they had just escaped. But they are only two, and so are Jon and Qhorin. Two skilled fighters in the way of the sword against two men armed with spears and axes. The fight is vicious, and both Jon and Qhorin are feeling the exhaustion of the long march and the lack of food. Sheer adrenalin and the will to survive is the only thing that keeps them going. But adrenalin and will can only work for so long. Jon falls to the ground and the wildling is on top of him in no time.

 

I can’t believe this! I managed to save Jon from a set of wildlings only to be killed by another! I can’t watch this. Not again!

 

 _Swoosh_. A bloody head rolls on the ice. I fear the worst. I open my eyes to see a headless wildling lying next to Jon, another wounded wildling writhing in agony to the left, and Qhorin extending his hand to Jon.

 

“Come on boy, this is no time for a nap!” Qhorin teases Jon as he helps him up. I close my eyes in relief. Qhorin has saved Jon.

“We should burn the bodies” Jon reminds Qhorin. “That’s what Sam said”

“Indeed, but if we light a fire, we’ll tell the whole wildling world our location Snow” Qhorin concludes. “There will be no burning, we’ll just chop them to pieces.”

Jon winces in disgust but finally agrees. This time, I do turn around. There really is no need for me to see this.

 

Now I just want for them to get back to Castle Balck without any further incident. How far are we? They don’t really know where they are, but north of the wall there is only one direction to go if you want to go back: The Wall. Visible even from the greatest of distances, such magnificent structure is not easy to miss. Once they get to the Wall they will need to decide whether they should head east or west, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Hopefully this will be over soon and we can put an end to this horrifying adventure in the North. I want to hurry back before we come across any of these spooky creatures everybody is talking about.

 

We never hear them coming. They sneak up on us undetected and by the time Jon and Qhorin wake up it is too late. We feel them before we see them. The atmosphere turns cold and Jon’s breath condenses in the crisp frozen air. Tall and lanky, with rags barely covering their pale white skin and icy strands of loose hair dangling from their cadaveric faces, they creep menacingly towards us. If their appearance and their demeanour are not frightening enough, it is their eyes that make my heart skip a beat: lifeless icy blue. Jon is having a similar reaction. His breath is caught in his throat: we have finally met the white walkers.

 

“Run!” both Qhorin and I yell at the same time.

 

Qhorin raises his sword and stands before Jon facing the creatures defiantly. “I am the Sword in the darkness” he says and urges Jon to run again.

 

Jon starts running, but we both know he’ll never make it. I look back just in time to see the creatures slicing Qhorin in half. I try to push Jon and I know he is running as fast as he can. But it is no use. These creatures are not human. They do not walk and they do not run, they practically slide on the snow and catch up to Jon in no time. Their leader raises a long blade and targets all his movements towards Jon. I cover my eyes, I can’t watch. I don’t want to see, but I can’t help hearing. The unmistakable sound of metal piercing leather, skin and bone and Jon’s forced gasps tell me all I need to know. It’s all over.

 

I have failed.

 

The white walkers leave and I make my way towards Jon. I cry at his side and put my hand through his hair. He’s dead ….

 

No, he’s not dead. He’s moving. He’s getting up. His eyes open!!

 

His eyes … They are icy blue, devoid of all life. His skin turns white. His hair turns grey.

He is no longer my Jon. He has become the same creatures we had come here to fight.

 

I have failed. I have failed. I have failed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, trying to save the different members his family is not really working ... There's one more thing he can try ...
> 
> Next: Bran himself!
> 
> I have to admit, I'm not too proud of this chapter. I knew all along how I wanted it to end (with Jon becoming a white walker), I just had trouble getting there. I knew I had to get to Jon and change his path at an early stage for two reasons. From a plot point of view, all Bran wanted was for Jon to go back home as soon as possible, so I couldn't let him stay for years at the Wall with Bran just standing idly by. Also, from a practical point of view, if I followed Jon for months and years through all his adventures at the Wall, I would just be repeating canon events and that would just be a waste of time. So I knew I had to get him to divert from canon early on. I just had trouble finding how and when ... Jon had a lot of events which were much more interesting than this one, but they all depend on him going with the wildlings. So if Bran could prevent this event from happening and not have him mix with the wildlings, there was a chance he could go back home ...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. The Boy in the Capital (Bran)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: In this chapter the spirit of Bran will be interacting with the real Bran. Hopefully it is not very confusing ...

  _ **10.**_ ** _The boy in the capital. (Bran)_**

 

No matter how hard I try, I always fail. I tried warning my family but nothing works. Yet, there is one thing that triggers a chain of events that is actually within my power to change. Not only may I be able to save my family if I change this, but I may be able to save myself. I need to stop _myself_.

 

I have always loved climbing and clambering the walls of our castle. Sometimes I feel Winterfell was meant to be scaled. Of course, my mother does not agree. She has always hated it when I go climbing. Now I see why ….

.

.

.

The Royal party has arrived. I see the King step off the carriage and I see the face of disappointment in little Bran. I had heard so many stories of King Robert, how brave and how strong he was, yet the man in our yard is nothing but an old fat drunkard. I see his wife, Queen Cersei. She truly looks the part of a Queen: beautiful and regal. The children are next. Prince Joffrey comes out first, followed by Myrcella and Tommen.

 

I see myself later that day playing with Tommen and Myrcella. Rickon and Arya are with us as well. They look so happy all together. Joffrey is sparring with my older brothers and Theon. The King and my father are talking and my mother is showing the Queen around our castle. I guess if things hadn’t turned out the way they did we could have remained friends and could have all been happy.

 

I follow my father and the King and overhear their conversation. The King wants my father to go to King’s Landing with him and become his Hand after the previous one died. They also talk about Sansa marrying Joffrey. I know she will be thrilled about it.

 

Bran talks to Ser Barristan one day. I can hear the conversation as he tells my original self about being a member of the Kingsguard, what an honor it is and how, if he trains hard he could become one of them. I see his face light up at the mere notion. Maybe that’s what I should do.

 

The men decide to go on a hunt. All the men are going: my father, the King, Jory, some of the King’s guards, some of our guards, they have even invited Robb, Jon and Theon. Bran wants to go but they won’t let him. I notice the Kingslayer is not there. Where could he be? Why would he not go on the hunt?

 

The men are gone. Mother is busy with the Queen and other ladies. Arya and Sansa are having embroidery lessons with Myrcella, and Rickon is showing Tommen around the stables. Bran is all by himself, and I know what he is thinking: perfect time to go climbing. I can see determination on my own face.

 

Suddenly images assault my mind. _A tower. A boy climbing. A window. A man and a woman naked rolling on the floor. An arm jutting out of the window. A boy falling. Silence and darkness._ That’s me, I suddenly realize!! I need to stop myself from climbing.

 

“Bran, do not climb up that tower!” I say as I stand in front of myself.

“What are you?” I hear myself ask.

“Can you hear me?” I ask him surprised.

“Of course, and you look just like me” he replies.

“You can see me? Are you not surprised or scared?”

“No, why should I be? If you are me, I’m sure you mean no harm.”

“I suppose you’re right” I smile at him. This will probably be a lot easier than all the other times. I should have done this from the beginning! Why didn’t I think of stopping myself?

“Why should I not climb the tower? Will I fall?”

 

I don’t have the heart to tell him what will happen if he climbs, so I just nod. It’s a lot easier when the people I interact with can see me! It seems to have worked. He just goes back in the direction of the stables to join Tommen and Rickon.

 

Yes!! I have just stopped myself from triggering a chain of events that would doom not just myself, but my family as well.

 

Days go by in complete bliss. The King and Queen are always in conversation with my parents. The children bond with each other having a good time: playing with toys, telling stories, singing, riding horses, sharing lessons, and in the case of the older children sparring and practicing archery. We hold feasts, celebrations and hunting trips. Maybe I have actually fixed the future!

 

There is talk of betrothals now and positions being offered. My father will become Hand of the King. Sansa has been betrothed to Joffrey and she seems ecstatic at the prospect. There is talk of Myrcella being betrothed to Robb and Tommen to Arya. I wish they would take me into account as well. I do like Myrcella. But my parents are also having another conversation. I have only caught small snippets, but they mention things about “confirming suspicions” and “the Lannisters being involved”. I don’t know what they mean …

 

My father wants to go to King’s Landing with Sansa, Jon and me. Father will be Hand, Sansa will be Joffrey’s betrothed and they’ll marry when Sansa comes of age, and I will squire for Ser Barristan Selmy. My dreams of becoming a knight are closer to being realized! Jon was going to join the Night Watch, but in the end Uncle Benjen convinced him not to, explaining that new opportunities could open themselves to him in the capital. My mother will stay at home to help Robb become Lord of Winterfell, and Arya and Rickon will stay home with them. As sad as I am about being separated, I think it is all for the best. If everything goes well, Sansa will be Queen and I may even become a member of the Kingsguard.

 

So it is with mixed feelings that we all say goodbye in the yard. I see mother and father share a long and tender embrace, which is odd, since they barely have open displays of affection. My mother is in tears as she says goodbye to Sansa and myself. My father hugs Robb tightly and whispers things in his ear, most likely some final words of advice. He then lifts Arya and Rickon in his arms and kisses them on their temples. Jon and Robb share a hug and then Jon goes on to say goodbye to my other siblings. My mother and Jon politely nod at each other and wish each other luck. I wish they could have a more tender parting.

 

Off to the capital we ride.

 

The journey is fun and entertaining. There are improvised tournaments and a few feasts in the open air countryside. I have to admit, I am having a lot of fun just watching my original self enjoying himself so much. He is always riding with Ser Barristan and learning from his words and experience. I mean to be the best squire ever, and by the time I reach adulthood I will certainly know how to ply the trade and become an honorable member of the Kingsguard.

 

The stench reaches us before we see the red walls surrounding King’s Landing. My father explains that it is a consequence of so many people living in one place. Winterfell has much fewer people, so they create much less smell. He adds that when too many people stay in one room for a long time, the room becomes stuffy, and that the same applies to cities. I suppose it makes sense.

 

We are led towards our rooms, located in the Tower of the Hand. We share an apartment, but we all have individual rooms. I had never had my own room at Winterfell. When I was very little I slept with Arya and Sansa. Then, when Rickon was born, I moved into another room and shared it with Rickon.

 

There is going to be a tournament in honor of the new Hand. Jon wants to enter and he suggests Bran be his squire. I see his face light up with excitement. Ser Barristan has decided not to compete so there is no reason why Bran could not squire for Jon. Father disagrees claiming Jon is too young and inexperienced. He adds that one thing is training in the yard with friends and family, and another is going against proven knights in the arena. Still, at Jon’s and Bran’s insistence, he acquiesces and soon everything is settled.

 

Bran goes with Jon to see a smith. We have his armour mended and improved, his sword sharpened and polished, his shield strengthened and repainted with the wolf on a grey field with added snowflakes to identify with the North (though Jon jests it is for his Snow bastard status). They are choosing a helmet. Jon wants one that has a visor, but I quickly tell Bran to recommend an open helmet without a visor since the added piece of metal would only hinder his vision. I further explain that since it is a tournament, it is very unlikely somebody will target Jon’s face. Bran agrees and soon chooses a helmet for Jon. He looks so confident in his role as a squire that I start thinking that maybe this is truly my fate: to be the best squire and then become the most honorable Knight there ever was.

 

The tournaments begins. It is a much grander affair than anything I have seen thus far. There is music and dance, stalls with food and drink, little shops that sell arts and crafts. Jon buys Sansa a pin with flowers on it and Sansa gives him a handkerchief she has embroidered herself as a token for the tournament. Jon says that if he wins he will name Sansa Queen of Love and Beauty. I know it is all in jest, but it is fun nonetheless.

 

The first competition is archery. As an opening act, they have young boys competing. Bran enters the competition, but much to his disappointment he does not qualify to the next round as his arrow goes flying way off the target. But it is not the young boys the people want to watch, so when the real archers step up on to the yard the spectators start cheering. Jon takes his turn and actually qualifies for the second and third round, but that is as far as he can get. In the end it is a Lord from the Vale who wins.

 

Then it is time for the joust. Jon did not write down his name for this event, so we just sit in the stands next to Father and Sansa. Sansa keeps looking in Joffrey’s direction and he keeps waving at her. Joffrey had declined from participating in any of the events, claiming he would only fight when needed and not for entertainment. Sansa had said it was very chivalrous of him, but Jon thought it was cowardly. Father just shrugged his shoulders and said that a smart man knew when to fight and when not to. I’m not sure if he meant Joffrey or Jon…. The jousts prove to be very entertaining with many famous knights making their appearance, though I am a bit disappointed Ser Jamie Lannister is not among the knights competing. The final ride is between Ser Loras and Ser Clegane. Sansa cheers for Ser Loras and is very elated when the Knight of Flowers wins and smiles in her direction. Behind us the King’s brother, Renly Baratheon, claps his hands fervently. I didn’t know he was so interested in the jousts.

 

Now it is time for the main event. The melee. Jon is radiant and he looks very handsome in his new armour. Bran is standing by him making the final adjustments to his gear and his weapons. When the game finally starts, I see Bran going to stand on the side with the rest of the squires. Sansa watches with excitement and father with trepidation. It turns out Jon is not a bad fighter after all. He quickly learns how to duck and how to move, how to avoid and how to deal blows, how to block and how to thrust. Not many knights remain now. Jon is up against a knight in a blue armour whose shield I do not recognize. There are so many knights it is difficult to keep track! I have been able to recognize some of the royal guards, Ser Loras Tyrell, the Clegane brothers, some Lords from the Vale I saw my father speaking to, and very few others. Again, noticeably absent is the Kingslayer. I was really looking forward to seeing him fight.

 

Everything is going well until after a very strong hit by his opponent Jon looses his footing and falls on the ground. He is about to yield and his opponent is about to help him up when another fighter collides with the knight in blue from behind making him fall on his lance. When he gets up I see the blue knight’s lance sticking out from Jon’s face and when he removes it is dripping with blood. The blue knight looks at my father, confusion and apology written on his face. Sansa is crying. My father mutters something about a visor.

 

A visor! That was my idea! An idea that I planted into Bran’s head and he agreed. And now Jon is dead because of me!

 

Bran is devastated. He looks at father and Sansa and runs away. I race after him and yell for him to stop. But he just keeps going and going ignoring my pleas. We finally reach the end of the yard and he collapses next to a tent.

 

“It was your fault!” he yells at me.

“I’m sorry” I apologize.

“Who are you? Why are you here? I thought you meant to help me! I thought you knew!”

“I am sorry Bran. I do mean well, I swear. I do want to help. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean for Jon to ….” I trail not really knowing what to say.

“Go away!” he yells angrily at me. “Go away and leave me alone! I don’t want to see you ever again!”

 

I decide to leave him be for the time being. I have failed and now Jon has paid the price. I walk away from his crying form and just wait in the shadows. A few minutes later I see him get up and look at the entrance of the tent he was sitting next to. Strange noises are coming from the tent. Moaning and panting, as if somebody was hurt. He is about to peek inside and I want to stop him. But my curiosity is also piqued. I want to see what is going on inside the tent, and besides, it’s not like he will listen to me now.

 

I walk towards him and stand by his side as he opens the flaps of the tent. There, inside the tent are a very naked Queen Cersei and her brother Jamie. What are they doing? He is lying on top of her and is rocking her with his body. Are they wrestling? If he wanted to fight, why didn’t he participate in the tournament?

 

I quickly tell Bran to close the flaps and run away, but it’s too late. They have seen him.

“Jamie, stop him!” the Queen shouts. Jamie wastes no time getting on his feet and grabbing Bran by his collar.

“What are you doing here, you little brat?” he asks.

“Nothing” replies Bran. “I .. I was .. I got lost” he stutters.

“Lost?” the Queen snorts. “Who sent you? Was it Robert? Or was it your father?”

“No, I swear, I got lost. My brother Jon, he was in the melee, and he was fighting, but he didn’t have a visor, because I told him not to, I was his squire, and he fell, and a knight hurt him, and I” Bran started to ramble.

“Oh, be quiet you little snot. Jamie, make sure he does not leave this tent”

“What do you want me to do? He’s just a child” Jamie replies.

“So? He saw us. Get rid of him” she continues dispassionately.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I won’t tell. I swear!” Bran cries.

“Oh, the things I do for love” Jamie says before he runs Bran through with his sword.

 

As Bran lays bleeding I kneel by his side and take his hand. “I’m sorry” I whisper. …. I close his eyes when he stops breathing.

 

I have failed.

I have failed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mhh ... well, it didn't work. But he can't give up now, can he?
> 
> One more chapter to go ... And yes, Bran will finally figure it out!
> 
> Next: last chapter!
> 
> If you're still reading, thanks a lot for sticking around :)


	11. The Boy and his Family (epilogue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end. 
> 
> Thanks a lot for sticking around!
> 
> Thank you very much to all those who read the story, gave it kudos, and especially to those who took the time to leave a comment !
> 
> I hope you like the end :)

  ** _11\. The boy and his family. (Epilogue)_**

 

I have tried to help my family avoid the horrible fate that awaits them. I tried stopping them from making terrible mistakes, but it was all for naught. I convinced my father to tell Robert the truth, but when the King had the royal family executed Tywin Lannister killed my father in revenge. I managed to stop Robb from falling for that foreign healer and break his oath to the Freys only for Robb to die precisely because the healer had been sent away at my behest. I stopped Arya from going to Braavos and embark on an adventure that would only bring her grief, but grief is what I caused her when she was captured by the Boltons and suffered a horrible death. I got Sansa to escape Joffrey and the Queen, only to be recaptured and imprisoned: she never could really escape Joffrey. I was able to convince Mother not to leave Wintetrfell only for her to suffer terribly at Theon’s hands. I managed to get Theon not to attack Winterfell, but in the end his fate remained unchanged. I tried to help Jon by doing my best so that he could return home and not fight those dangerous creatures beyond the Wall, and it was precisely those creatures that ultimately killed him. I even thought I could save myself from falling, but in the end it was even worse: I died.

 

Intervening in their fates individually did not work. I have to get them when they are all together and warn them. There is only one time when I can get my whole family in one room and when they will actually listen to me. … Yes, I admit, it did feel nice to see myself walking around and enjoying life to the fullest with an able body, but if losing the use of my legs is the price I have to pay in order to save my family, then so be it. After what I have seen, I will choose that hands down and call it a bargain.

 

I see myself lying on my bed in my room, unmoving and covered in furs. My mother is distraught with grief, I had never seen her so broken. My father is devastated, as well. He is torn between his duty to his King and his love for his family. I see my siblings: Robb tries to appear strong for my mother and father, but I have seen him wipe a few stray tears off his face; Sansa, on the other hands, cries openly and does not even attempt to cover it; Arya comes to visit me daily but remains quiet, she takes her anger out on the dummy she secretly practices swordplay with; Rickon is lost and confused seeking attention from whoever will give it to him, usually Sansa, since my mother has pretty much lost her mind. I also see Jon. He wants to come to my room, I know, but he also does not want to face my mother. He has been in a couple of times, always in the company of Robb. I know Maester Luwin is doing all he can to try and save me, but he knows it is no use. He knows that if I wake, I will never walk again, but he does not have the heart to tell my family.

 

Maester Luwin is speaking to my family now. They are all together. This is the time! This is my chance! I need to talk to them now.

 

“Listen to me!” I yell. But no one hears. They are all focused on the maester’s words and nobody is open to my presence. I yell and I yell, but to no avail. I need to find another way before my chance slips away. My eyes fall on the body on the bed. Bran. They will listen to him if he wakes up.

 

“Bran, open your eyes” I will myself to wake. I focus all my energy on the body on the bed and I try my hardest to get to the core of my own soul. “Wake up, Bran, wake up” I whisper intently to my own ear. “You have to save your family. You have to warn them. Only you can do it, and you have to do it now, before it’s too late. You have to wake before father leaves with Sansa and Arya, before mother loses her sanity, before Jon goes to the wall, before we are left all alone.”

 

Bran’s eyelids flutter and his fingers twitch. Everybody’s eyes are on him now. I smile as my efforts are rewarded. My incorporeal form and its real counterpart are finally together, finally aligned in the same reality. I am no longer a ghostly phantom and the body in the bed is no longer an empty vessel. We are one and the same again. Together.

 

“Bran?” my father asks.

“Yes” I reply feebly, the serious injuries my body suffered in the fall and the prolonged time of inactivity taking a toll on me.

 

Maester Luwin hands me a glass of water and helps me take small sips. My sister holds my hand and my mother wipes my forehead. The tenderness I see reflected in my family’s actions and their faces breaks my heart. I cannot lose them.

 

“I need to talk to you. All of you. I need your attention” I start, not sure about how to continue.

“Bran, what is going on? Are you alright?” father asks with worry.

“Yes, but I will not be, none of us will, if you do not listen to my words” I continue, finding my courage.

“What are you talking about Bran?” my older brother asks.

“Fate. I am talking about our fate. Do not ask me how I know of this, but my fall was not an accident. And more tragic events will befall all of us if you do not heed my words.” My words sound too ominous for my own taste. I don’t know if they’ll believe me, I don’t even know if I believe it myself. “We are about to embark on paths that will lead us to our own destruction. We are about to go our separate ways and that will only bring us grief” I continue and I try to sit with the help of my father and Theon. “The lone wolf dies”

“But the pack survives” my father finishes for me. “What are you trying to say, Bran?”

“Father, you have been offered the position of Hand, have you not?” and my father nods. “And Sansa has been betrothed to Joffrey” to which my sister nods. I look at Arya now and continue “Father, you mean to take both Arya and Sansa to the capital with you, do you not?”

“Aye, I do” he replies quietly.

“And Jon, you are adamant about going to the Wall and joining the Night Watch, are you not?”

“Yes, I am” he replies frowning his brow in confusion. “How did you know? I had not told you before you had the accident”

“As I said, do not ask me how I know these things. I just know them.” When I knew I had their undivided attention I resumed. “Father, you are about to embark on a journey you will not return from. Events will happen in the capital which will not only cost you your life but will also plunge the Seven Kingdoms in a war very few of us will survive. Sansa, you will suffer terribly at the hands of the Prince; he is not what you think he is. Arya, the fate that awaits you will take you to unimaginable adventures, but you will not rejoice. You will be all alone and miserable. Mother and Robb, you will become involved in a war that will claim your hearts, your heads and ultimately your lives. Rickon, you will be left all alone and become lost to the rest of the world. Jon, I know you believe joining the Night Watch will bring you honor, but what fate has in store for you there is not what you imagine. Theon, I know that in spite of your cool exterior, deep inside you do love us and that’s why I cannot let you fulfill your destiny: a future of suffering and pain beyond all imagination is what awaits you. Please listen to my words.”

“Bran, this is just crazy” Robb says shaking his head. “We are all very glad you’re awake, but why don’t you get some rest? Get some sleep and then we’ll come see you again tomorrow” he suggests running his hand softly through my hair.

“Please, just hear me out” I beg. Their faces denote a mixture of curiosity and pity. I guess they do wonder if I hit my head harder than it looks, and I can’t say I blame them. When they all nod I continue. “Father,” I start, my eyes focusing on him, “if you discovered something about the Queen that would make your friend, King Robert, react with such rage and force to the point that it could endanger her life and that of her children, and if you could warn her and save her life, who would you speak to first?”

“I would try and speak to the Queen first to make sure they are unharmed” he replied confirming my suspicions. “Then I would talk to Robert and make sure the situation is resolved with as minimal risk as possible to the parties involved.”

“Of course you would father. Your honor binds you to do the right thing” I smile at him. He gives me an expression I cannot really read, so I turn to my mother. “Mother, if you had reliable information and credible evidence that I did not fall through the window, but that I was pushed”

“Oh, gods! No! Who pushed you? My sweetling?” she interrupts me and approaches my bed.

“Wait, mother let me finish. If you knew that somebody was responsible for my accident and you had clues as to who that person was, would you go after them?”

“To the bitter end. They would pay for what they have done to you” she replies, her lips pursed and her voice harsh. “I would do anything for any of my children.”

“I know, mother, I know” I try to reassure her. When she gives me a sad smile I continue and turn to Robb. “Robb, if you make a vow to a family like, let’s say the Freys, but you find yourself unwilling to fulfill that vow because you have found an option that you find more pleasant, would you try and fulfill your vow to them regardless or would you try to appease them with an alternate option even if it is not that advantageous to them?”

“Appease! Advantai…ning? What is this? Where did you learn these words?” my train of thought is interrupted by Arya’s outburst.

“Arya, let your brother finish” my father admonishes her softly.

“Sorry” she mumbles.

“So, Robb, what would you do?”

“Well, I would try to avoid any kind of vow to a family like the Freys” he chuckles and the comic relief is well accepted by my audience. We all laugh a little at his bad attempt at a joke. “But I suppose I would make whatever is best for us and if that implies not fulfilling my vows to them I would try and compensate them somehow.”

“Sansa, if you had the chance to escape a place where you are being abused, would you take a chance and leave with a man you know has killed an innocent boy before? Would you venture into the unknown with a stranger? Or would you stay with the people you know even if it means you might get hurt?”

“I .. I don’t know” she stutters. “I’d be terrified, especially if I know the man is a murderer. I think I would probably stay with the people I know, even if they make me suffer. I would fear the unknown.”

“Arya, if you were all alone in this world, knowing your family and your house are no longer here, would you venture into the unknown?”

She looks at Sansa and then replies “I do not fear the unknown. If there’s nothing to keep me here I would seek my fate elsewhere.”

“Bran, where are you getting these horrible ideas from, my sweetling?”

“Mother, let me finish, please. I promise I will explain.” When she nods I continue. “Jon, you want to join the Night Watch, don’t you?”

“Yes, but how do you know? I haven’t told anyone, yet. Nobody but Uncle Benjen knows and he swore he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“How I know is irrelevant now, just bear with me, please”

“All right.” He sends an apologetic look to my family and nods. “Yes, I have thought abut joining the Night Watch”

“What if your superiors gave you an order that, even though it implies doing what is best for the Order and for the realm, puts your life at risk? What if this vow to the Night Watch forces you to do things you don’t want? If these things you have to do alienate you from the rest of your friends pitting them against you?”

“I would always try to do the right thing.”

“Even if your friends do not agree and may even get angry at you?”

“Yes, that’s the way I was raised” he says and looks at my father, who smiles softly at him.

“Theon, you do love us, don’t you? And you would never try to hurt us, would you?”

“Of course”

“But you have always had bigger dreams than being just a ward of the Starks. You have always yearned for your father’s approval. What would you do if your father asks you to betray our trust? Would you turn against us if he asked you to, even though deep inside you know it is not the right thing to do?”

“I would never betray you, Bran!” he cries outraged.

“I know you would never want to hurt us, Theon, and that you would take measures to ensure we are not harmed” I reassure him. “But, let’s say you were offered the chance to become King of the Iron islands, or if the opportunity arose to become Lord of Winterfell, would you take it?”

“Well, I do admit I would like to be King of my islands or hold a position of power” he admitted. “But never at the expense of you. You are my family, Bran!”

“It’s all right Theon, we know” I try to ease his feelings.

“Bran, where are you getting with this?” my father asks and I can see his unease.

“This will all happen father! You will leave with the King and be forced to make a decision that will cost you your life and plunge the realm into war. Mother will do things that, however justified they may seem, will have dire consequences and will anger our enemies. There will be a war and Robb will be forced to make decisions that will ultimately cost many lives. Sansa’s and Arya’s lives will take paths that will separate them from our family and the people they love, taking them in adventures that will not be pleasant. Jon, the Night Watch will not be what you expect, and your life there will not be what you think. Theon, we know you love us, but opportunities will open to you where you will face a decision that will mean suffering for us, and you will take it, but you will regret and second guess yourself it every step of the way.” I finish my speech and look at my family. Jaws dropped and eyes wide open is what I see in them, doubt and fear reflected in their faces.

“Bran, my sweetling, are your sure?”

“Yes, mother. This will all happen if Father leaves South with the King. Don’t leave father. When the snows falls and the white wind blows, the lone wolf dies …”

“But the pack survives” father finishes for me again.

“Winter is indeed coming. We need to stay together” I insist. “Family Duty Honor” I say turning to my mother. “We need to stay together as a family. Father, don’t leave.”

 

The silence in the room is deafening. The tension could be cut with a knife. My family all look at each other pondering what to say. We are suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. It is Maester Luwin who first gathers strength to get up and answer the call.

 

“Lord Stark” Maester Luwin says from the door to my chambers. “The King is without”

“Let him in” my father’s stern voice replies.

“Ned, I need to talk to you” King Robert starts but stops when his eyes fall on me. “Bran, you are awake! Thank the gods for that! You had a really bad fall, lad. I’m glad to see you have awaken.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” I reply courteously.

“So, Ned, now that your boy is fine. I need an answer. You will become my Hand, will you not? You are coming with me to King’s Landing.”

 

My father takes a moment before answering the King. He looks at me and I raise my eyebrows at him. I beg him silently to reconsider. “I am sorry Your Grace,” he finally says “but my place is with my family. I truly thank you for the honor and feel humbled you would consider me for the position. But my place is with my family.”

“Ned!” the King roars.

“I beg your forgiveness Your Grace, but my place is with my family” he insists to my relief.

“All right” the King finally acquiesces. “For our long lasting friendship and the love we bear each other, I will respect your decision, Ned. But there will come a time when you will repay me the favour”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

 

When the King closes the door behind him I look at my family and I smile at them. My smile seems to be contagious since they are all smiling now, and soon the smile turns into a boisterous guffaw and we are laughing loudly.

 

I have not failed this time.

I have succeeded. Our family will stay together!

 

My name is Bran Stark of Winterfell and I have saved my family.

 

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? In the end, Bran sacrificed himself to save his family ...
> 
> Did he succeed this time? I want to think he did ... He stopped his father from going to King's Landing. That way they will be all together safe and sound in Winterfell and hopefully they will never find out who is behind Bran's accident, who Joffrey's father really is, etc and live in ignorant bliss for all the years to come. ... no war, no executions, no Wall, no Red Wedding, no Braavos, no Faceless Men, etc ... 
> 
> This fiction was actually a collection of what-ifs ... 
> 
> *What if Ned had talked to Robert before he talked to Cersei? 
> 
> *What if Robb had sent Talisa away and married a Frey? 
> 
> *What if Arya had not gone to Braavos? 
> 
> *What if Sansa had escaped with the Hound? 
> 
> *What if Catelyn had remained at Winterfell? 
> 
> *What if Theon had not betrayed Robb? 
> 
> *What if Jon had never bonded with the wildlings? 
> 
> *What if Bran had not fallen? 
> 
> etc ... If anyone wants to pick any of these short stories and make them into a longer fic, they are more than welcome to do so. (Hopefully with a happier ending!)
> 
> Thank you very much for reading and sticking around!
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated! If you have a minute, please let me know what you think...


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